Who Has Seen The Wind?
by sultal
Summary: Grover, Percy, Annabeth, Thalia, and Nico unearth Kiera Crow and Aydyn Erichthonius Owl, 2 demigods with uncomfortable powers and dark pasts. Especially Kiera, the first of the wind cousins. Percy Jackson OCs,immediately after the The Last Olympian.
1. Prologue and Chapter 1: Ready

**PROLOGUE**

_**Who Has Seen The Wind?**_

_Who has seen the wind?_

_Neither I nor you:_

_But when the leaves hang trembling,_

_The wind is passing through._

_Who has seen the wind?_

_Neither you nor I:_

_But when the trees bow down their heads,_

_The wind is passing by._

_-Christina Rossetti_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 1: Ready<strong>

_W. Kiera Crow_

"Look. Whale."

"Not a whale and you know it."

"No shit Sherlock."

We sat under the fisherman statue, reclined against the base. Apathetically, I bypassed Aydyn's retort. My mind was preoccupied. All day it had been busy with worry each time I thought about…

"The track meet?"**(1)** Aydyn rolled his grey eyes. "Kiera come on! You're _not_ still nervous about that stupid girl ranked ahead of you?"**(2)**

I didn't answer. Instead, my eyes rested on Aydyn's fake whale. The ocean by Gloucester, Massachusetts was never calm but today it heaved angrily. I knew that Aydyn pretended to see a whale to distract me. Make me feel better. But seriously. A whale so close to shore-that was just ridiculous. The low frequency sound waves emitted from boat propellers would be as helpful to a whale as a meat grinder. Duh.** (3)**

Still... I wasn't so sure that the ocean was exclusively choppy waves. It did look like there was something else out there. Squinting, I tried to space out the waves slinking above and below the shadowy surface.

Just waves. Nothing else…right? For some reason I started to feel nauseous again. Was it the meet? It had to be.

"I have a right to be nervous, " I said, frowning at the ocean, "That girl ranked ahead of me practically overnight. She must be fast. You would be nervous too."

Aydyn laughed out loud, "Fat chance of that. If I was good at you-and I am-I'd throw a pre-race victory party."

It was my turn to be cocky, "You're not as good as me."

"Easy there Princess."

"Bet?"

"How much?"

"How much you got?"

"Race for ice cream. And toppings."

I scrunched my nose.

"Bloody God, _really_ Kiera? _Really_?"

Challengingly, I raised both eyebrows..

"Fine." Disgustingly, Aydyn shouldered his backpack and grabbed my _Nike_ duffle. "_Low fat_ ice cream. Kill-joy."

And with a sling shot motion, Aydyn pitched my duffle bag, turned, and sprinted down Stacey Boulevard.

I smiled. He was so dead.

**Kiera's Footnotes**

**(1) This would have ideally been my turn for the "No shit Sherlock" comeback. But I was way to nervous to argue. It was one of those days where you just want to go with the flow.  
><strong>

**(2) And again….see footnote 1.**

**(3) Ok…so you probably figured out I'm a physics geek. What can I say, it happens to the best of us. Regardless, I wasn't dishing out bull; low frequency sound waves generated by boat propellers are identical to the low frequency sound waves some whales use for communication. Whales have difficulty distinguishing between these natural and anthropogenic frequencies, so a lot of times they collide with boats. Plus, the incessant noise is just annoying.**

* * *

><p><em>Aydyn Owl<em>

I was so dead. **(4)**

Even with my brilliant diversion I knew it was only a matter of time before that cheetah in _Sauconies _would be hot on my heels. Regardless, I charged onward, barreling pass the tourists, local fishermen, and seagulls.

I realize ice cream may be a juvenile bet and it's probably more juvenile that I take it so seriously. But I just can't help it. The second Kiera's bag vaulted off the statue, my brain clicked into military mode. Survive and win. Well, "_preferably win"_ in this case. Kiera was fast. What do I mean by fast? Try "four time state champion" fast.

But bloody…if I lost this race…the consequences! Low fat ice cream! Kill me now.

With that horrible thought in mind, I bounded off the sidewalk and crossed onto Western Ave. "Judges love pedestrians!" I yelled, sprinting through traffic.

About a million horns went off and a white mini-van nearly ran me over. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some dude in a rasta hat raise his fist and….was he actually _bleating_ at me? Bloody. It's like no one ever heard of a cross walk before (despite the DO NOT WALK sign). Important part was though, I had bought some time.

A second flare of horns disproved my calculations. Breathing hard, I looked over my shoulder. There she was-dodging the same white mini-van, her bleach blond hair streaming like flames. And yeah…the rasta cap dude was still bleating.

Damn it. Growling, I picked it up a notch, pumping my arms and kicking back my legs. But I could almost feel Kiera smiling at my back. It was two miles to the ice cream place. We both knew she'd catch me. What can I say: Kiera was just a runner. She always had been. She always had been…

**Aydyn's Footnotes  
><strong>

**(4) Yup. Dead. But what the Hell, I love a good competition. If there was more than one route, I could definitely win: it's all about strategy. For instance, how'd you like my plan of attack back there at statue? Nice, right? Right? All right…was it cheating? Yeah. Was it cheap? Absolutely. Would I do it again? Probably not-but only because the novelty has worn off..**

**So boo-hoo, I expected the loss. But that's not why I'm writing down here. My real reason is to articulate how stupid I think these footnotes are. Kiera will put down her little two cents and that's fine: just don't expect me to. Unlike Miss. Crow, I actually say what I think. So…no more footnotes. From now on, I'm going to say it loud and say it proud.**

* * *

><p><em>...Flashback...<em>

_"SHUT UP! SHUT THE HELL UP!"_

_ "Aydyn—"_

_ "DON'T TOUCH ME!" Savagely, the boy ripped his arm from the stranger's iron grip, "YOU'RE NOT MY FATHER!"_

_ "Aydyn," the stranger's face was chiseled, unfeeling like carved stone. Aydyn shook his head. The man was lying! He must be! But it was harder and harder for Aydyn to convince himself as he stared into the cold eyes._

_ Again, the man step forward. He was a mountain with muscles like boulders. But Aydyn did not move. He would not give in to this liar! "Aydyn," the man repeated, voice so deep it was mesmerizing, "Stop this right now."_

_ Jutting out his chin, Aydyn matched the man's gaze. Evenly, the huge man knelt so he was actually at eye level with the eleven-year-old. Aydyn started to tremble, but not because the man intimidated him; it was because the woman in the corner had started to cry into the shoulder of the little blonde girl on her lap. Why was she crying? This man was lying! Didn't she realize that?_

_ "Mom-"Aydyn couldn't hide the tremor in his voice. He clenched both fists. "Mom…he's ly-"_

_ "Keegan was my brother. I am not lying." _

_ "YES YOU ARE! NOW GO!"_

_ Aydyn's head was exploding. "GO! GO! GO!" And he hit the man. Slashing out and screaming at the top of his lungs. Every last inch of anger Aydyn propelled through his fist and into the man's face._

_ Aydyn connected, heard a crack, and felt heat pour over his fingers._

_Your father is dead._

_Someone was shouting his name, telling him to stop but Aydyn felt like he was underwater._

_Your father is dead._

_A blur of black, as if both eyes had rolled back inside of their sockets._

_Your father is dead._

_Two stony eyes, flaring dangerously. A raised fist. But it didn't matter. All Aydyn wanted was to hurt him…it was the only way to stop the pain. Make it all untrue._

_Your father is dead._

_Running away. Screaming. Collapsing on the sand. Stumbling upright. Running. Screaming. Begging. _

_The winter night attacked him with unforgiving cold. Tears froze to his cheeks. His bare hands burned raw. But Aydyn kept running. He screamed so loud, it was a long time before he heard the girl behind him._

"_Wait! Aydyn! Wait!"_

_Kiera. He didn't bother turning. "Go Away!"_

"_Wait!"_

_He ran faster. Faster. Faster._

"_Aydyn!"_

_He screamed, but this time because the tiny, blonde girl vaporized before him, both hands outstretched. Aydyn swerved. Kiera grabbed his shirt. Both children stumbled down a snowy dune. They rolled onto wet sand before thudding to a stop. Neither spoke. Neither moved. They just stared at the black, lifeless sky as the ocean sprayed them._

_Then, Aydyn shivered. Uncontrollably. Shaking like a bag of bones, he turned. His cheek prickled against the cold sand as Kiera shifted to look into his stormy eyes. She was still clutching his collar. _

_Utterly hopeless and alone, Aydyn breathed, "I want my Dad."_

_Kiera stood, releasing him. There was nothing she could say. There was nothing she could do. Only…she could only be here and let him…._

"_I want my Dad. I want my Dad. I WANT MY DAD! PLEASE! DAD! DAD! DAD!"_

_It didn't matter how loud Aydyn screamed. The wind ripped the cries from his throat, howling with laughter._

* * *

><p><em>Aydyn Owl<em>

There had to be another way to cheat! Think! Think! Think! Ok…thinking was clearly not working. What I needed another diversion. Like a locomotive, or a Siberian tiger, or girl-eating ninjas!

But since those basic commodities were not altogether common in Gloucester and Kiera was breathing down my neck, I decided to be a good sport and let her win; gracefully. Like a gentlemen.

Ha! No freaking way!

Instead, I opted for the classic stick-my-foot-out-routine to gracefully trip my half sister. **(5)**

"Take that Pocahontas! Oh crap—"

It was like the girl had trampolines surgically implanted in her feet! With the nimbleness of a gazelle, Kiera leapt over my outstretched leg and breezed by.

"Yeah that's right!" I yelled, hands reaching for my knees, "Keep running Princess! Bloody…" blinking at the sweat pooling at the corners of my eyes, I trod off after her, "…good thing I taught her everything she knows."

**Aydyn's Footnotes  
><strong>

**(5) Ok, ok, ok, I'll eat my words here is another footnote. Sue me. But did I forget to mention Kiera and I are half-siblings? Well…technically…mostly…sort of…kinda…at heart…well you'll get the gist soon enough. Now go back to _mwa_ brilliant scheme to win!**

* * *

><p><em>W. Kiera Crow<em>

The truth is, Aydyn taught me everything I know-about running. Well, running competitively that is. I could run for hours by myself, but Aydyn put 'pep in my step.' I would never admit that to his face, but truth be told, the boy was a brilliant stagiest. _Endurance is your strength, so get out fast at the gun for placing. Sprint when I tell you to, not before. Don't wear high heels with that dress-you're calves will kill tomorrow! Fish tonight? I don't think so; pasta before a race, smoothie in the morning. Get sleep two days before the meet. Test tomorrow? Ok Sleeping Beauty, skip the morning periods and take a half day_. **(6)**

Seem a little like the George Patton incarnate? Try Attila the Hun. Aydyn loved to win, but he hated to loose more. For instance, last spring Aydyn quit throwing javelin, joined the track coaching staff, and nearly got the team kicked out of the Penn Relays when he attacked the timer for "suspiciously" loading the start gun.

_"Caps, Aydyn!"Coach McGregor had yelled, crumpling the restraining order in his hands, "Harmless caps!"_

_"Well those 'caps' looked like bullets!" Aydyn retorted, "The whole thing was suspect! He's lucky I didn't call the cops-"_

_"You're lucky I don't call the cops!"_

Oh yes…Aydyn Erichthonius** (7)** Owl was a commando freak from way back. In sixth grade he won the egg toss at East Gloucester Elementary _and_ the East Coast Collegiate Chess Championship. Two years later, Aydyn was champion at the United States Armed Forces Cribbage Tournament. **(8)**

Needless to say, it felt awesome to kick Aydyn's butt and watch him choke down sugar-free ice-cream. Glaring sideways through the dripping cone, Aydyn smacked his lips distastefully. "Well," he said, sourly regarding the cone, "at least it _resembles_ cotton candy ice cream. Agch! I lied. Oh great-."

Across the street, a flock of girls erupted into giggles as Aydyn's cone fell onto his chest.

"Bloody!" Aydyn, pretending to be deeply upset, flipped off the stained shirt. Carefully monitoring his admirers, he punched me in the shoulder, "I bought this shirt at the_ Great Big Sea_ concert!" Good-naturedly, Aydyn hit me again, "I blame you for this."

Brilliant. The boy was brilliant. After fixing him with my best '_are-you-serious'_ glare, I glanced over at Giggle Central. As I expected; not so giggly anymore. Sure, they were still salivating over Aydyn's six-pack; but now I had become a threat assessment. Aydyn knew this. It was custom strategy:

1.) Spill the gross sugar free ice cream on shirt.

2.) Oh no pink stain on valuable 95% cotton, 5% polyester fabric! Emergency. Better strip.

3.) Nonchalantly flash sculpted body to the _Aydyn Owl Fan Club_.

4.) Locate nearest platonic female friend (aka Kiera Crow) .

5.) Physically interact with platonic female friend (again Miss. W.K. Crow) to make fan club jealous.

6.) Prep cell phone _Add Contacts_ app.

The sick part of all of this was that it worked. And very well. Already, two heiresses had entered the cross walk. They were whispering through enormous grins and stroking identical pin-strait haircuts.

However exhilarating it would have been to stand awkwardly and watch Aydyn flirt with Bimbo One and Bimbo Two, I decided to suspend that pleasure for another time.

"Hey, hey, hey there Princess! Where are you going?"

"Meet tomorrow."

"Kiera," Aydyn wined good-naturedly. "Five minutes."

I kept walking. "Meet tomorrow Aydyn. Sleep. Remember, _Mon Captain_?"

"Hey!" Adydn threw out his hands, defensively, "I just need five! Or at least until you finished that delectable looking low-fat coffee-flavored **(9)** ice-"

I stopped long enough for a pained look.

Taking advantage of my pause, Aydyn flashed a smile at the girls. Coaxing me about-face, he leaned close, "Kiera…they're blondes **(10)** !"

I chanced a look over my shoulder. Couldn't really argue-they were all blondes. They were also the kind of girls that would try to cook you with their hair-straighteners. I should know: the one named Linda tried to kill me everyday in the locker room after gym class. **(11)**Judging by the way she was clicking those hot-magenta designer heels, it looked as if Linda was contemplating murder again.

Linda also happened to be on the track team. But she was a sprinter. My stomach clenched. Sprinters; the dark side of running. Girls who wanted to wear the spanks-uniform with as little physical activity possible.

Ok, being partial to cross country, I may have a little chip on my shoulder. But the short distance runners were all the same. You sprint for 100 meters, seventeen seconds, and you are done. Your event was first, so you get the double luxury of (1) fan attention and (2) watching everyone else run for the next seven hours.

Seriously...by the time I started warming up with the distance runners, Linda and the sprinters had already exchanged booty-calls with the other teams' pole vaulters.

I rarely get overworked about silly things-especially when they involve girls and drama-but when it comes to running, I do not hold back. Running was more than my thing. It was…my way…my peace. And for some reason, Linda seemed resolved to make my life on and off the track a living nightmare. Currently Linda was glaring as if she would enjoy nothing more than to drown me in the Atlantic. Inwardly I scoffed. Just for kicks I glared back and with my eyes told her _No way in Hell_. Then I swear to God….she answered: _Exactly_.

**Kiera's Footnotes  
><strong>

**(6) I said he was a brilliant strategist. I never said he was moral.**

**(7) _erekthō'nēus_…yes I spelled it right and no I am not kidding, that's his middle name. I remember asking our-er-I mean Aydyn's Dad, why he had such a "silly name." Apparently it was 1.) None of my business 2.) Hypocritical, considering I didn't respond to my actual first name 3.) Chosen by Aydyn's real mother.**

**(8) I was Aydyn's plus one. And let me tell you those military balls…snazzy.**

**(9) Ok…I LIKE the way coffee ice cream tastes!**

**(10) Too easy.  
><strong>

**(11) Sorry… "physical education."**

* * *

><p><em>Aydyn Ow<em>

Girls are freaking weird. First, _none! zip! zero!_ of those Barbie chicks came over to get my digits. Second, the sexy, albeit dumb-as-rocks, Barbie got into this weird-invisible-laser-eye-battle with Kiera. At first, I thought it was a female code thing. You know, like '_Back off fool he's MY man'_ or '_Gross-those shoes are totally last season_.' Ok cool, girl-fight-staring-contest. My money was on Kiera.

But then I looked at Kiera. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Her black eyes were grotesquely dilated, like a rabid animal. Red spots bubbled down from her ears, staining her white cheeks. I blinked. Kiera's lips were…I think they were turning blue. The strangest thing though-_my_ muscles were tensing.

"Do what you want." Kiera's turned on her heel, "My bag is still at the statue." She crossed traffic without another word. Forcing a smile (Linda returned it behind a cute little finger wave) I followed and quickly caught up.

We walked silently for a while. I'd known Kiera long enough to recognized when she was steamed. It didn't happen often, Kiera was pretty even-keeled, but when she got mad things started to explode. Right now, she was seething-kinda like the hour before the storm. Certainly this was a delicate matter; one ill-timed comment and Kiera would surely blow.

"Glad to see you and Linda are finally getting along."

"Shut up."

"No seriously. It's only a matter of time before she makes you a friendship bracelet or asks to French-braid your hair before the mee—"

"Aydyn I said shut up."

I did shut up. A good general knows when to retreat. A good general can also smell danger afoot. I had a feeling it was more than Linda-Kiera never really bought into the _d-r-a-m-a_ crap so there had to be something else. Meticulously, I took a long look at Kiera to see if I could sniff out the problem.

It wasn't easy. If Kiera were a statute, she would be modern art. Abstract and indefinable. She was every expression and no expression simultaneously. When my father died, we both had to attend counseling. I-er- threatened to stone the psychologist if he asked "How does that make you feel" one more time. But I remember Kiera answering the same question over and over, "I don't know. I don't know." She was a quiet kid and very private. You get the point; the girl was hard to read.

Kiera noticed I was staring. She gave me the 'what' look but I didn't break the gaze. Scanning her open face, I searched for clues. Usually, unbroken eye contact with Kiera freaked people out. She was pretty enough (for a half sister) but her features were very…how do I say this delicately….creepy.

To begin, her skin was white. Not like porcelain doll white. I mean white. As in find your crayolas and dig out the crayon, white. Moreover, her _hair_ was basically white-'titanium blonde'. Puh…whatever. The color wouldn't bother me half as much if her hair wasn't so messy. Literally, Kiera always looked liked she'd just walked out of a blow-drying session on the high seas. It took all of my self control not to attack that mane with spray conditioner and a brush.

Most distracting were her eyes. Black. Big and black. The sharp contrast of pigments had an unnerving effect, sort of like being sucked into a vacuum. Truthfully, I felt chills grip my spine; I mean come on! The chic has vampire eyes! But, that was the secret to reading Kiera. Her really creepy eyes. They say "eyes are windows to the soul." And that was why I was the only person that could read my half sister. No one else was stupid enough to look directly at her.

"You are usually calmer," I said as we rounded the _Man at the Wheel _statue_,_ "are you panicking or something? It's not Linda? Please tell me it's not Linda. Because I don't think I could bear a _girl_ for a sister. "

Kiera jogged over to her duffle. It was squashed in a public trash bin. Oops.

"No," she answered, unzipping the bag and fishing out her trainers, "definitely not Linda."

"Relief."

"Although," Kiera said, inspecting her shoes in the dimming light, "I think it's safe for you to put your shirt back on now."

I grinned, throwing the shirt at her. "Hey Sis! Ever see a tattoo dance?"

"Don't. Oh no—

"Check it!" I growled, hunching over Kiera and flexing my pectorals. The faded triskielion, imprinted across my shoulder and pec, wiggled as Kiera laughed.

"Stop it, stop it! Ok I'm happy! Aydyn!" I hopped backwards as Kiera swung her shoe at me, "You are nuts!"

"No one," I announced to the sunset, "can resist this piece of meat! Especially when it's stamped with a Celtic knot!" I flexed again for good measure, threw on my shirt, and sped after Kiera. Bloody…this girl could not stay in one place!

"So come on," I coaxed as the street lights flickered on, "what's bugging you?"

"Nothing," Kiera said, fiddling with her laces, "only…I don't know. I feel so _on edge_. Especially with your girlfriend Linda back there…and at the statue. Don't know why but I thought I was going to punch you for mentioning the bogus whale."

"Um yeah, noticed that. Thanks. Where we going, to pick up Mom?"

Kiera glanced at her watch. "She should be back from the plant by now."

I smiled, deciding not to tell Kiera I'd felt unnaturally hyped all day too. But she seriously needed to chill out if we were going to kick butt tomorrow at the track meet. I would have to relax Kiera before those stomach butterflies ate her alive. Sigh…the job of a leader-and-chief is never done.

But right now, that did not matter. Let her stew.

I could not wait to see Mom.

* * *

><p><em>...FLASHBACK...<em>

_"Kiera!"_

_The blonde girl pumped her legs, flung herself off the swing, and sailed through the air._

_"Aydyn!"_

_The brunet boy looked sharply, sand sifting from his fingers._

_"Kiera!"_

_"Aydyn!"_

_SMACK. _

_A tangled mess followed. Both children, too startled to cry, grappled in the sand box. Aydyn was mad because his sand castle was ruined. Kiera was mad because Aydyn decided to hit her with the shovel he used to build the sand castle. _

_From the sidelines, in flew the parents. _

_"Easi' noew!" shouted a burly man in a burly voice, "off mi boy! Off mi…Aydyn coom on! It's a bloody Lassie!"_

_"Whatever is the matter with you!" A slender woman with long, yellow hair and angry blue eyes ducked into the skirmish. A stream of papers fluttered in her wake as she grabbed her daughter, "Kiera! Dear me! Stop! Stop! Both of you stop! This instant! Kiera let go of his hair!"_

_"Aye stop! Play nice! Bloody-bite 'er Aydyn!"_

_"Excuse me!" Horrified, Kiera's mother clutched her daughter close as Aydyn struggled against his father's bear hug, "your son-"_

_"-is goin' to have an early visit from the tooth-elf—"_

_"—fairy!"_

_"-BECAUSE," the man staggered forward as Aydyn squirmed, "your little princess here…"Aydyn's father choked, looking at Kiera up-close for the first time. Much of Kiera's face was smothered beneath her mother's arms. Only her eyes were visible, blaring like two black headlights. The bull-like man shivered, but his face was clenched in a grizzly brood._

_Aydyn, was not nearly as mystified. He opened his mouth, long enough to finish his father's sentence, "Because that stupid girl killed my fortress!"_

_Kiera glowered pointedly at the mass of sand, "Some fortress."_

_"Stupid girl!"_

_"You talk funny."_

_"You look funny!"_

_"You," Aydyn's father said, as the children charged, "are prettier than I though' ye'd be, Mary."_

_Both children stopped, disgusted. "Ewwwwwww!"_

_Kiera's mother had the decency to blush, enraged though she was this man's son had ten fingers around her daughter's throat. No doubt Mary Crow was pretty. Her body was long and graceful like a swan's. Every movement and every expression was perfectly choreographed, as if she were a wind-up doll, twirling in a musical jewelry box. Many men had tried to catch her with gooey promises and shiny presents. But Mary was also guarded, a solemn attribute to her beauty. _

_Thus, it should have been no surprised when Mary wasn't swept off her feet. Retreating slightly, she regarded the large man suspiciously, "How do you know my name?"_

_Much to Mary's annoyance, the man laughed. Rather, he hacked as the bristles of his beard twitched. Still hacking, the man reached into a coat pocket for a rolled up news paper. Flapping it open, he said, "Twa reasons, Love." _

_Smacking the front page with the back of his hand, Aydyn's father read aloud, "Science & Tech Column: Dr. Mary W. Crow, pictured belo'…" he winked at Mary before proceeding; "…stands proudly wi' daughter on Gloucester's first offshore wind-turbine station. Crow was the leading physical engineer in the international project…an' it goes on for a wee bit longer," Aydyn's father displayed the paper to Mary, "…but I couldn't get over that cute little—"_

_"—What did you say your name was?" Mary was frowning at the print._

_"Didn't," the man looked extremely proud that she had asked, "but its Keagan. Keagan Owl—"_

_"This paper is a year old, Keagan Owl." Keagan was still smiling, but it strained under Mary's glare, "Exactly one year old. I finished the wind turbine project last June."_

_"…I'm…a…fan!" Keagan's smile could not have possibly grown wider without splitting his face in two, "Surprise Mary Crow!"_

_"Dr. Crow."_

_"Dr.? All right then…Doc-tor. Ye see I'm a bit o' an engineer mi'self. So...reason number one: shake 'ands wi' a fello' engineer!" All too eagerly, Keagan shoved an open hand at Mary, who regarded it distastefully. Without looking up, she said, "I hope your second reason is better."_

_Oh," Keagan's tone dropped an octave, "it is. It is." He leaned close. Mary smelled machine grease and the dirty tang made her head fuzzy. Blinking hard, she concentrated on the deep voice in her ear, "I came a long way to find you Dr. Mary Crow."_

_"Oh really. And why is that?"_

_A pause. Then, "So I can kill your daughter."_

_This final comment was the last of the unexpected events of the day. Keagan's cheek was slapped and Mary's hand bruised that night. Keagan pleaded forgiveness, swore, then spanked Aydyn for mimicking. Mary stalked away, dialed 911, and shared a bowl of whipped cream with Kiera. And like all tragic romances, Keagan and Mary spent that night furiously upset and thinking of the other._

* * *

><p><em>Aydyn Owl<em>

"Aydyn. Aydyn."

I snapped from the daydream. Kiera was already walking toward the docks. A motor was gurgling but it was too dark to see the boat. But I was already excited. It had to be Mom.

Fish and seaweed fumes licked the inside of our nostrils as we settled on the dock. Kiera pulled out her shoe and started playing with the laces again. Impatient, I squinted out the harbor, my head bobbing to see pass the rocking masts.

"It's Mom." Kiera tugged at a knot. "I caught her voice."

"No you didn't. How could you possibly?"

"Chill, I did. Maybe the wind carried it or something."

"Maybe."

The motor was purring now, and an oblong shadow was dissolving into view. I smiled but a prickly sensation was quickly growing over my excitement. Something was wrong.

I glanced at Kiera. She had quadruple-knotted both laces.

"Hey Kiera," I said casually, "do you-"

"Yes I feel awful, Aydyn. I just want Mom to get here so we can go home."

I let out air, relieved. I was glad she broke first. Something was definitely screwy around here but I did not want to be the cry-baby. That's what almost-little-half-sisters are for. Now I could play almost-big-half-brother. Kiera always brags how good of a strategist I am. But the truth…

Lifting a knee, I leaned over and wrapped an arm around Kiera's thin shoulders.

….the truth was…I was an even better almost-big-half-brother.

"Don't worry," I rubbed her arm, "Mom will be here soon."

"Sooner than you think, Aydyn."

Kiera and I looked up simultaneously. The motors were silent. The anchor splashed and sunk. It was dark, but her smile was radiant. There stood Mom.

She said, "Come here."

We did and left together.


	2. Chapter 2 : Set

**Chapter 2: Set**

_W. Kiera Crow_

"Why can't Aydyn sleep over, Mom? Mom?" I hit the dashboard, "Mom!"

She jumped and the car swerved.

"Kiera!" Mom looked angry, as if I hadn't been talking to her for the last five minutes. "Kiera don't do that. It's dark-never surprise the driver."**(1)**

"Fine, sorry," I faced her, this time making sure she would at least see my mouth moving, "but why can't Aydyn sleep over?"

"Yeah!" Aydyn was laughing his head off in the best seat. "You tell her Kiera!" Twisting in the seatbelt, I swung a fist in his direction, "Way to help, Stupid!"

"Kiss my Mamma with that mouth?" Aydyn grabbed my arm so tight I thought my elbow would snap off. We hit the curb and Mom scolded us for rough-housing.

"Aydyn! Come on! That's quite enough!" Grudgingly I stopped, tucking both knees against my chest. Mom's pale blue eyes flickered periodically in the review mirror.

"Aydyn," she said warningly, and I could almost feel the bunny ears retracting. Mom shook her head and put her eyes back on the dark road. "None of that in this car. You know that. It's too dangerous."

This was very true. Now, driving a 3,000 pound car at 60mph** (2)** any day is dangerous. It's been proven by all the physics equations: crash = ouch. But Mom's Jeep Wrangler literally decreased life expectancy by five years. Aydyn and I both failed our driver's tests twice because our '_vehicle of choice'_-the Jeep Wrangler-was 'a _structural hazard to drivers everywhere_.' **(3)**

Wondering why? I'm not so sure…I mean it's a great car! Metallic-silver coat, custom tread-off-road tiers, leather lined interior, traction control, built in radio….

Ok…maybe it had _something_ to do with the lack of roof…and lack rear doors….and lack passenger doors…and lack of driver door…but seriously who cared? The thing could max over 100mph without making sound! **(4)** It was like flying in an open-cockpit. Wind always flowing over your cheeks and through your hair. Awesome. **(5)**

"Although you know," Aydyn leaned forward so he could massage Mom's shoulders. She immediately took a wry stance but was clearly enjoying the treatment.

"Enter the sweet-talking salesman."

"More like the blood-sucking salesman," I grumbled.

Aydyn shot me the _can-it-Princess_ look. He probably would have vocalized it if Mom hadn't flinched forward on the steering wheel. "Ouch!"

"Aych-Sorry Mom!"

"No, no it's fine," she settled back, rotating both shoulders gingerly, "strong hands."

Grazing the surface of Mom's neck with his fingertips, Aydyn said dramatically, "Yeah, it's a curse…"

Mom flinched again. But it couldn't have been from Aydyn; he was barely touching her. I frowned. She seemed fine but looked like she'd swallowed a slug.

Nestling my chin between both knees, I decided to dismiss it. I couldn't think straight with the race in the back of my mind and Aydyn's arguments drilling holes through my skull. He was dishing out a lot of baloney mixed with college-level vocabulary words; but it all boiled down to:

"…PLEASE let me sleep over!"

Mom still didn't look convinced. But you gotta hand it to Aydyn because he kept trying. **(6)**

"Mom, you know that Kiera never get's enough sleep. So if I spend the night at your house, I guarantee that she'll get enough sleep, wake up to an Emmemim playlist, and run the best race of her life. So…" Aydyn gave one last dig with his thumbs, "…how about we turn this jeep around pronto and head back home?"

Mom's eyebrows raised. She only did that when she was disappointed. "Kiera why didn't you tell me you had a race tomorrow?"

"I did."

"Well did you write it down on the calendar?"

"Mom," it was my turn to be disappointed, "I told you a billion times." **(7)**

"Kiera—"

"I'm _not_ exaggerating!" Trying not to sound like a brat, I swallowed a whole lot of teenage attitude. "I told you purposefully this morning because you _always_ forget."

Again Mom flinched. Ok….little bit of teenage attitude slipped out that time. But I couldn't stay calm. Why did she always forget?

"Kiera," I could tell Mom was being careful, "I've told you—"

"I know, I know." I leaned against the seat so the rushing air would drown her out. "Write it on the damn calendar."

The lecture I expected never came. Mom just stared at the road; as if she hadn't heard me swear. For a few minutes, I played with the idea of swearing again, this time louder. But Aydyn was scowling at me and I decided since he wasn't going to tattle, to let it pass.

The wind filled the silence for a few miles. During this time, Aydyn's face hardened. Finally, the car decelerated. Grinding on broken road, the Wrangler rolled up to a dimly lit sign:

**YE OLDE BLACKSMITH**

**HISTORICAL GLOUCESTER **

Aydyn lived with his Uncle Haden. Haden was a blacksmith. No I am not kidding—an honest to goodness blacksmith. Professionally, Haden was commissioned with some Hollywood company that made movie props; you know, weapons, jewelry, armor, and that sort of stuff. Best day of my life was when Aydyn smuggled half the set _from Clash of the Titan_'s to career day in eighth grade.

On the side, Haden ran an authentic blacksmith shop as part of Gloucester's tourist attractions. I guess blacksmiths were big in the old sea-ports, like Rockport (which is a little north of Gloucester). Haden actually moved the shop from Rockport when Mom met Keegan-apparently business was better.

We were all quiet as Mom switched off the ignition. Somewhere in the dark a hammer was hitting an anvil. _Clang. Clang. Clang_. Then, stonily Aydyn said, "Mom. Please let me sleep over."

Mom reached back her hand, but Aydyn was already reading her sad face, "Baby…" she said, putting a hand on his knee, "…your Uncle would never…"

"No it's cool," Aydyn grabbed his backpack, "I get it."

"Aydyn-"

If there was a door on the jeep, I'm sure Aydyn would have slammed it.

"Hold on young man," Mom said, leaning out of the car, "don't walk away from me like that."

"Would you prefer I skipped?" **(8)**

"Enough with the tone."

Aydyn scowled. But not at Mom; he was scowling past the sign towards the sound of the clanging hammer. Eerily, as if sensing his gaze, the metallic ringing stopped.

Fighting the impulse to run I watched as a massive body materialized behind the sign. The soft light crumpled onto a hard expression. Angled eyebrows. Tarantula hands. Tangled hair. Angry eyes. Haden. He was built exactly like Aydyn...just a lot bigger. **(9)**

I did not like Aydyn's uncle. Haden did not like me either. The first time we met was right before Keegan died. There was a minor incident involving an anvil and my skull. Let's just say I was never welcome at the Owl Household for movie night. Already, Haden had fixed one eye on me and one eye on Adydn.

"Close shop." Haden never spoke in complete sentences. But he didn't really need to; his speech was always blunt and directional.

I looked at Aydyn. Cooly, Aydyn said, "I don't remember being the last one in the shop. **(10) **Besides…"

Aydyn gestured with his head, "I'm sleeping over at Kiera's toni—"

"No!"

I jumped. Haden tossed a sledge hammer at Aydyn's chest. I don't know how Aydyn could catch it so easily. "Get in, Striker." **(11)**

Aydyn didn't budge, but his muscles were about to snap with the tension. Haden shuffled forward and put a huge hand on Aydyn's shoulder. "Now."

Haden pushed his nephew back. Then he headed toward our jeep.

I think Mom was surprised as I was. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she swung both legs out of driver's seat.

"Stay in the car Kiera."**(12)**

I wanted to run away. Especially seeing the look on Haden's face as he approached. I braced myself but as Mom intersected him, Haden dropped his gaze and started up a conversation. Weird.

I leaned forward, trying to hear what they were talking about. Their voices were low, but they were speaking quickly, so it sounded urgent. Obviously, this was a topic worthy of eavesdropping. Normally I would have ditched the jeep and snuck my way into the discussion, but Haden kept glancing at me. Mom did not.

Twice, the conversation heated up and Haden pointed in my direction. I was still too chicken to eavesdrop. But they kept repeating a word that was either _sister_, _sadder_, or _soothsayer_. Well…ok…I know it at least began with _s_.

Then it got scary. So scary that I had enough sense to reach over and start the car. It all happened when I was just about to relax; maybe Haden was not talking about me. He was probably mad at Aydyn. That wasn't unusual.

A second later, the voices crescendoed. Haden barked "KEEGAN!" and jut a finger at me. I swear his arm almost skewered Mom. That scared the pants off me. But that was nothing.

Mom slapped Haden's temple. Haden didn't blink but Mom cried out. Then, the scary thing happened. Fire. Haden must have been holding a blowtorch or something that I hadn't noticed in the dark. But in the dark, it looked like the flames were spirling up his arms.

"Holy sh-"

That is when I lunged for the keys, still in the ignition. An illegal U-turn later, we were barreling down the road.

**Kiera's Footnotes**

**(1) Surprise the driver? It's not like I materialized in the seat next to her.**

**(2) That is a conservative estimate….except for the mph which is ULTRA ULTRA ULTRA conservative.**

**(3) Harsh, right?**

**(4) Not like I've tried in the dead of night or anything stupid like that…**

**(5) Ok fine…it was Aydyn's idea. But we didn't wake the neighbors. We didn't kill any pedestrians. We didn't get caught. I loved that jeep.**

**(6) Aka he wouldn't shut up.**

**(7) More like a trillion billion million. You stop counting after a while.**

**(8) Ouch.**

**(9) Like wrestler vs monster-truck bigger.**

**(10) Sometimes Aydyn is just stupid.**

**(11) Haden never called Aydyn by his first name either. Instead, he used "Striker." From what Aydyn has told me, 'striker' is the same thing as a 'blacksmith apprentice.' It made sense in a detached sort of way-Aydyn worked with Haden in the shop during tourist season.**

**(12) Ok...did I not mention our jeep has no doors?**

* * *

><p><em>...Flashback...<em>

_The lights turned off._

_Kiera stood there, not knowing what to make of the situation._

"_Dad?"_

_Nothing._

"_Dad? I can't see."_

_But she could hear. The door was ajar. A breeze fell through the crack. Someone was breathing behind her. And to the side._

"_..Dad?"_

_She jumped. Something sliced to her right. Slowly. Methodically._

"_Dad?"_

_She had never been scared before. So she started to run._

"_KIERA!"_

"_KEEGAN! DON'T!"_

Orange light flared to her right. She tripped. A flash of something big and metal.

Everything was foggy after that. The sirens. The men in masks. Dad. Confusing. Dad's were not suppose to cry. All around her mouths kept moving. But she couldn't hear-the wind was roaring in her ears.

* * *

><p><em>W. Kiera Crow<em>

Mom and I didn't talk.

Nothing new. We never talked. Not about running. Not about her work. Not about boys. Not about school. Hell…we didn't even talk about the weather. So why should we talk about the near death experience with Aydyn's crack-pot uncle? Not important. **(13)**

But I knew she was upset. Usually Mom switches the radio onto the classical station. She loves wind instruments, probably because they fit her timbre and she can hum along. But tonight we let the motor stop the silence.

I leaned my head against the seatbelt strap. Questions were burning in my mouth (WTF? being the principal question). But I did not ask. It was just as well. Mom was an engineer and a physicists-she needed to think through problems. Besides, the stress of tonight and tomorrow had left my brain and was starting to annoy my stomach.

We finally reached the house. It was a faded old piece of drift-wood, stained by ocean spray and scratched by sand. Our only neighbor was the Atlantic, about 400 meters from the back door. **(14)**

Mom left without a word. I stayed put. My head was too crowded to go inside. Slowly, I unbuckled the seatbelt. After lacing up my trainers, I slipped out of the car and into the salty night.

And this is where I give you the shpeel on running. It never fails to amaze me: running puts mind and body into totally different worlds. For instance, right now: my head was pretty messed up but my body was rhythmic and smooth. I thought hard but ran easy.

I hadn't been running long when my phone vibrated. I slowed to a jogged to check the text. It was Aydyn.

Aydyn: **WTF?**

I love how Aydyn knows exactly what I am thinking.

Never able to text and run simultaneously, I stopped and sat in the sand. **(15)**

Kiera: **idk how much did u see?**

Aydyn: **nuff to get the hose lol**

Kiera: **haha. what were they talking bout?**

Aydyn: **idk.** **Mom ok?**

Kiera: **guess so she didnt say much**

Aydyn: **hmm ok. u outside?**

Kiera: **maybe**

Aydyn: **go inside n stop running!**

Aydyn: **eat pasta!**

Aydyn: **LOTS o pasta!**

Aydyn: **go 2 bed!**

Aydyn: **love u :)**

Kiera: **love u. night**

I ran twenty more minutes before turning around. There were still too many unanswered questions I couldn't shake off. What was that uneasy feeling I had all day? Why did it still make me queasy? What was Mom's secret conversation with Haden? And what was the deal with Haden's ballistic reply? What did Aydyn see in Linda? **(16)** Who was the girl ranked ahead of me? Was she faster? Would I win? Should I cook linguini or gemelli? **(17)**

Aydyn: **gemelli**

I smiled. I'd run dozens of races and won. My room was filled with trophies, ribbons, and race tags. But Aydyn understood I needed more. I think that is why we get along so well. No crap, no false praise, no glory days.

I thought of Keegan. I looked to Mom's bedroom window. The curtains were closed. The cold, blue light from her computer screen highlighted the sill. Glory days. I sighed. Those days were over.

While my gemelli boiled, I returned to the back porch. Sitting, physics homework in my lap, I stared at the black ocean. The waves rocked back and forth. I couldn't see them, but I could hear them. Aydyn had predicted good running weather tomorrow, but the water seemed too violent for anything but storm clouds.

My stomach twisted. Groaning, I pressed _Physics for Scientist and Engineers Ed. 1_ against my forehead. Of all today's problems I was right back where I started-worried about the race and that dumb girl suddenly ranked ahead of me!

The stove timer went off, my pasta was ready. I got up to leave. But struck by an impulse, I doubled back. For some reason, I had thought of that stupid guy-humor movie ….the one about the crazy guitar player that makes a band out of preppy nine-year-olds…what was it…_School of Rock_! There was one line in particular…right before they competed in Battle of the Bands…_God of Rock, help us to rock_…

I looked to the left, then to the right. No one.

Looking to the black sea, I shrugged. "God of Running," I said, "help me to run like the wind." **(18)**

**Kiera's Footnotes**

**(13) That was sarcasm.**

**(14) Mom got the house when she became an environmental engineer. As senior engineer, she had to be close to the coast in case something funky happened with the wind turbines she helped design and install. It's actually pretty cool- Mom is one phone call away from a chopper ride to the wind-farm thirteen miles off shore.**

**(15) Aydyn and I have unlimited texting. It's a family plan.**

**(16) Besides the obvious badda-bing badda-boom.**

**(17) For those of you that don't know, pasta dinners are big in the running world-especially before meets. The theory is to load up on carbs for energy, but I think it's just an excuse to pig-out and play ultimate Frisbee. In any case, Aydyn and I have been to so many that we started learning the names of different types of pastas. If 'pasta' was a jeopardy category, Aydyn and I would be millionaires.**

**(18) And to kick the crap out of anyone that tries to pass me. Amen.**

end of chapter 2**  
><strong>


	3. Chapter 3 : Go

**Chapter Three: Go**

"Track meet….I'm in Heaven!"

"I'm in Hell."

"Grover! Thalia! Both of you are making my life purgatory!" Percy tucked the clipboard under his arm. Brow knit in concentration, he tried to untangle the three stopwatch cords around his neck, "Shut up and act like runners."

"Runners," Grover repeated, his eyes glued on the high jumpers as they flipped backwards over poles, "…right."

"Grover!"

"What?" Grover punched the rubber turf with his crutch, "I am on the lookout Thalia."

"No," retorted Thalia, "you are giving Juniper a million reasons to dump you. Oh for the love of the Gods!"

Furiously, Thalia yanked at her bright orange uniform bottoms. Scooting them as far below her cheeks as possible, she growled, "this is such a stupid sport. Why does everything have to ride up?"

Like a wild animal, Thalia grabbed the built-in-bra strap through the fabric and wrenched her racer-top down. It bounced back up the second she let go to re-fix her bottoms. Intelligently, Percy and Grover decided not to laugh.

"This is ridiculous!" Thalia raked both hands through her spiky hair, "how am I suppose to race in these bikini bottoms?"

"Um…I think in running lingo they are refereed to as _spanks_," Grover offered helpfully.

Thalia's eyes crackled dangerously.

"Ok kids!" Percy slid between the two before Thalia plastered Grover with lightning. That was the caveat about hanging with Thalia-you were always in danger of becoming a potato chip.

"I think it's time we all wind down and review the plan." Adjusting the baseball cap on his head, Percy quickly scanned the area. The meet was minutes from starting so no one was paying attention to the three kids decked in bright orange. Normally, the orange would have been a dead give away. But at the State Track Meet, they blended into the rainbow of uniforms. Still, the demigods were on a quest; they had to be careful.

"Ok…" Percy's voice dropped. Thalia and Grover leaned in, like a football huddle. "I am the Coach. Grover, you are my assistant. Thalia, you are of course competing."

"Not if these stupid bottoms cut off my circulation first," Thalia grumbled. Sighing, she shrugged on a wind jacket, "whatever, I digress. So what I am running anyway?"

"Last event," Percy said, referring to his clipboard, "the 1500 meter."

"So like what-a mile?"

Percy nodded. "A little less. There are about thirteen events beforehand, each with multiple heats. That gives us a few solid hours to find Grover's 'weird' demigod."

"Not weird..." corrected Grover. Checking over his shoulder for eavesdroppers, he continued, "...unique. It was just a unique scent-like the first time you smell a foreign food. I could definitely tell it was a demigod but the scent was…new. Off. Unique."

"Strong?"

Grover made a face. "Hard to tell. In and out."

Thalia looked skeptical, "In and out? What is that suppose…wait a minute. Grover. You aren't sniffing out monsters are you?"

Grover shook his head but the possibility hung in the air. All three peered warily to the sides, as if monsters were slithering under the track.

"It was definitely a demigod," said Grover slowly, "and it was here, last week, on this track."

"What teams were practicing?" asked Thalia.

"Just the home team…I think," Grover said, scratching his head through the rasta-cap. His horns stuck up against the fabric.

Thalia looked around. There were runners everywhere, packed into colorful clusters like schools of tropical fish. It was a bit overwhelming.

"Grover," Thalia said, "there must be twenty teams here. How do we know which is the home team?"

"Well..." said Grover, "I think it's pretty obvious, right? Just figure out what district this is. So, where are we? We are in…New England…Massachusetts…Cape Cod…no, no Cape Anne…Cape Anne…Gloucester! That's it, Gloucester. Yeah it was just the girls' team and a couple coaches. So it has to be-"

"A girl on the Gloucester team," finished Percy, "easy."

"Could be," agreed Grover.

Thalia made a face. "Grover that's kind of vague.

The satyr raised his eyebrows. "Well if you have a better idea then by all means please share with group."

"I could but there are witnesses."

"Hey!" Thalia and Grover jumped. Percy had blown sharply into his whistle. No one seemed to notice, which was good because Grover was so surprised he dropped both crutches.

"You two need to focus," Percy said as Grover bent down quickly, "Grover; get your head out of high school and into the mission. You have a girlfriend. Thalia; Grover attracts to demigods like a magnet. I trust his instinct. And both of you-"

Percy glanced over his shoulder. His back muscles had tingled. For a moment Percy made eye contact with someone; a boy, around Percy's age with dark hair, dark eyebrows, and even darker eyelashes. Percy vaguely noticed the blue _Gloucester Track_ polo before noticing the look on the kid's face. The dude had literally been staring at Thalia like a tiger would stare at sirloin steak. Percy shot him the _back off_ look. The kid did, but not before massaging one of his perfectly sculpted biceps.

"What?" Thalia asked impatiently, "What is it Percy?"

"Nothing," Percy reached a hand into his pocket and fingered a ballpoint pen. "Just both of you remember Chiron is counting on us. We have to be back to camp asap to clean up Cronos' mess."

Grover and Thalia actually shut up. Percy knew they were remembering the war. Percy closed his eyes. Had it really been only three weeks ago?

"You are right," Thalia said quietly, "let's do this."

Newly resolved, Thalia stretched her legs, copying the other runners. Percy was surprised. Thalia was skinny, but in this setting she looked like a star athlete. Side-bending like a pro, Thalia muttered logistically to herself. "Grab and go. How hard could it be right? Especially if there are no monsters."

Grover shifted uncomfortably.

"Well…."  
>"I knew it!" Thalia dropped the track-chic guise once again for Zena Warrior Princess, "Grover I am going to kill you."<p>

"I am not saying there _are_ monsters!" Grover said defensively.

"But you are not saying there _aren't_?" Thalia was enraged. The static electricity coming off her uniform could have powered half the city of Boston. Angrily she turned to Percy, "Do something before I kill him! We can't walk blind into this."

"Grover," Percy spoke urgently, "Thalia is right. If you have any bearings on monsters we need to know _now_. It is way crowded here so my ADHD is going too haywire for me to pick up on anything."

"Hey quit picking on the goat boy!" said Grover, "This stupid demigod sense is so bizarre it's pulling me in all directions. It's like my guts are being stretched east, west, north, and south all at once."

"Descriptive."

"Glad you liked it," Grover looked torn. "Just…don't rule out monsters. When I was excavating the coast for trash, there was a lot of dissatisfaction with the _Veneridae_ locals."

Percy nodded, but Thalia looked confused. "Excuse me? The _vene_-what?"

"_Veneridae_," Grover repeated, "clams. And they are _who's_ not _what's_. They wouldn't shut up about some funny smell brought in by the tide. And that's significant because clams are normally pretty stand-offish. Very private. Not big talkers."

Percy smiled. "Well I'm glad you _coaxed them out of their shells_. Haha, get it?"

"Good one man."

"But seriously I know what you mean. Never invite a clam to a cocktail par—"

"Percy," Thalia interupted, "shut up."

"Well," Percy winked at Grover, "_someone_ is jealous that she can't talk to sea-life."

"The same person is ticked and going to turn you two into sushi and lamb-chops if you don't-"

Thalia paused. Her attention was diverted by the stadium's loudspeaker, "_Coaches' meeting will presume in ten minutes. Coaches' meeting will presume in ten minutes. All coaches make their way to the football locker room please_."

Frowning slightly, Thalia turned to Percy. "That you?"

Eying the kid in the Gloucester Track polo, Percy nodded. "That's me."

* * *

><p><em>W. Kiera Crow<em>

"Mommmm."

_How stupid. Why did I still call for her after puking my guts out?_

It was not funny but I could appreciate the irony—Mom would never answer. Not if I was miles away at the biggest race of my life or if we were both in the bathroom, separated by shower curtain. I grimaced. There comes a point where "Sorry Baby, didn't hear you screaming in agony" just doesn't cut it anymore.

Forehead on the plastic garbage bin **(1)**, I tried to hold my hair back from last night's gemelli. It was rough. My hair is long and strands kept sticking to my lips. I tried to tell myself to shove it: worse case scenario, I barf till kingdom come and spritz myself with apple body spray before the race.

But I just could not relax.

I never…I mean NEVER get nervous before races. No way.

But today...today was bad. Obviously, I felt like puking. Besides that, my head was spinning, my hands were shaking, my legs were wobbly, my heart was nut-balling like the Enigizer Bunny…and apparently my shoe was also untied. Grateful for an excuse to sit down, I knelt to tie the lace.

Ever have one of those _uh-oh _moments? You know…like walking into a test without studying, or eating ten habaneras in a row? **(2)**

Well I had one. Sinking down, I knew that I should not be here. I knew that I should not run that race.

"Stop being a baby." I kneaded my stomach, "It's just…nerves. It's just nerves."**(3) **

I did not even try my laces. My head throbbed and my eyes were unfocused. Stretching my legs, I lay back onto my duffle bag.

You might be wondering why no one noticed me flopping around like a wounded walrus. Truthfully, I was not with my teammates on the track. I was camped out under the Little League bleachers. The baseball field is right next to the track.

No, I'm not a recluse or snob or anything like that. Big surprise, but it was all Aydyn's idea—part of his "strategy."

Aydyn made me invisible until race time. It was an elegant plan, actually. Simple and effective. You see, the only thing bigger than my winning record was my reputation. Other runners knew my name and feared me. Majorly. Most of the time, my competitors begged for a forfeit. **(4) **

Aydyn didn't give the other runners a chance to acclimate to me. Borrowing from his good friend Machiavelli, Aydyn took my impressive reputation and turned it to fear. With my absence, he created a presence. The first time runners saw me, was on the line. By that time, the anticipation had mounted and runners either cried or wet their spanks. Aydyn really enjoyed psyching people out.

My stomach had settled so I sat up. After a couple deep breaths and sip of water, I was back on my feet.

Two laps around the baseball diamond, I was best friends with the garbage bin again.

Maybe I needed a nap. God knows I had time: I was entered in four events, but the sprinters and hurdlers ran first. Moreover, I was pretty sure the coaches meeting had stared. Aydyn would keep the staff preoccupied for a solid hour. Never so grateful for Aydyn's isolation plan, I returned to my duffle bag and curled into a ball.

Although my stomach was ready for a breather, my sympathetic nervous system was still mega charged **(5, 6).** Closing my eyes was ineffective too because a dog was barking. It was a black Labrador, yapping at a man who was waving a Frisbee like a cowboy. On the man's hip was a little girl. She was pointing at the lab and squealing her head off.

Without warning, the man pivoted. Slicing his arm in and out, he shot the Frisbee into the sky. The dog was off like a gunshot, twisting crazily in midair to catch the disc. After a leap of joy, the lab looped back to his owners. The little girl had been set down, and she innocently ran towards the charging lab.

I flinched. Her father had grabbed air as she climbed from his hip, but missed. Overzealous, the dog toppled the tiny girl, dropping the Frisbee and licking her face. Exchanging barks with the lab, the man rushed over and scooped up his daughter.

Despite the unlucky situation, the scene was adorable. And very snuggly. It was hard to tell whether the little girl thought her dad was Superman, Santa Clause, or a teddy bear. Even the dog was bouncing around, oblivious to the streams of "dumb mutt."

Drowsiness set in. The last thing I remember seeing through heavy lids was the man shouldering his daughter. The black dog nipped happily at her toes.

**Kiera's Footnotes**

**1. Classy, I know.**

**2. Ask Aydyn.**

** a really, really, really, really, really, really, really bad bellyache**

**4. A lot of times Coaches took the loss. They knew I would win, I knew I would win, and Aydyn reminded everyone that I would win. Better to save energy and use the talent in another event.**

**5. Sympathetic Nervous System (SNS) = aka the thing in your body controlling "flight or fight" reactions. The SNS is one half of the Autonomic Nervous System (ANS). The other half of the ANS is the Parasympathetic Nervous System (PNS), which controls "rest or digest" bodily functions, the opposite of SNS "flight or fight." So, the SNS and PNS make up the two parts of the ANS. Got it? Hey, I warned you that I was a science geek. Deal with it or get smarter.**

**6. Yeah, footnote number 5 was slightly uncalled for. But when I'm stressed I tend to be blunt…and truthful.**

* * *

><p><em>FLASHBACK<em>

_"Why that color?"_

_ "It's in!" Keegan laughed as he tied the neon bandana at the end of Kiera's braid, "Orange is the new pink, Dr. Crow!"_

_Mary watched painfully, but Kiera seemed delighted enough._

_"There!" Planting a hairy kiss onto Kiera's blond head, Keegan laughed some more, "Now we'll never loose sight of ye will we? No more o' this hide an' seek, Princess!"_

_"Kiera!" Aydyn made a face through a fish tank, "Come over here!"_

_Keegan tugged Kiera's braid before she slid off the booth and ran across the room. _

_"Walk!" Mary and Keegan called after her, "Walk!"_

_Shaking her head, Mary turned back to her shrimp lomein as Kiera and Aydyn harassed the koi. _

_Uncomfortable under Keegan's intense gaze, Mary poked her chopsticks at a poor fortune cookie. She paused when Keegan interjected, scooping up the fortune cookie with his specially requested spoon. _

_"Cheater." Mary folded her chopsticks, smiling. _

_"Come, come Dr. Crow…"Keegan bounced the spoon loosely between his fingers. The fortune cookie, amazingly, stayed put as Keegan winked. "We're both mechanics…engineers…why not use the tools we have?"_

_Leaning forward on his elbow, Keegan extended the spoon and fortune cookie across the table, "Open it." _

_ Mary flicked at the spoon, but Keegan was not smiling. For once, his face was uncharacteristically somber. His bright eyes tracked Mary like headlights as she picked up the fortune cookie and cracked it between her long fingers._

_ "When are you going to tell me…"Mary said, brushing the cookie crumbles from her palm and searching for the little white slip, "…who you really…are…Keegan?"_

_ Keegan's face was taut as a wire as Mary read her fortune. Anxiously, he stared into Mary's startled blue eyes. He watched her beautiful lips waver in confusion._

_ Unable to resist a second longer, Keegan pushed aside his teriyaki beef and lunged across the table. Catching Mary behind the neck, Keegan pulled her to his mouth._

_ And the fortune on the table, preserved forever by Mnemosyne, contained two words that would change the new family's lives forever:_

_ Marry Me._

* * *

><p><em>W. Kiera Crow<em>

"Are you KIDDING me!? WAKE UP!"

I never jumped so high in my life.

"Aydyn!" Embarrassed that he had basically made me wet my pants, I pushed Aydyn away.

"What the Hell? Don't ever do that to me aga-" I froze. Everything came rushing back to me, particularly the part about me running four events at the state qualifier track meet.

"Shit!" Jolting upwards, I grabbed by flats and shoved them on my feet. "Shit!" I said again, but Aydyn grabbed my shoulders.

"Hey! Relax Girl! You haven't missed anything!"

I was still breathing hard. I felt like I just ran the 400 hurdles. "I didn't?"

"Not yet but it's a small wonder, Sleeping Beauty!"

"Shut up!" I growled, stuffing on my other flat. "It has to be close. What event-"

"They just had second call for the open eight. That's your first race. You've got about a minute so get over to the starting line right now. Open four is on its last heat so be careful crossing the track."

"Thanks," I said, throwing off my shirt and shorts. "Where is my bandana?"

"Front zipper. Kiera hurry."

"I'm going!"

"And don't forget!" Aydyn called at my back, "Make an entrance! Let's scare the crap out of these puppies!"

I threw up a hand for acknowledgment.

"Run like the freaking wind!" was the last thing I heard before weaving around the wire fence and into the arena.

* * *

><p><em>Aydyn Owl<em>

At the line.

My favorite part of the race.

Winning is ok, but I loved watching my sister ease up to the start like a gladiator.

You could taste the fear.

Reporters and photographers crowded in.

The bleachers hummed with expectation.

Coaches avoided eye contact with their runners.

The runners prayed for mercy.

The gun went up.

Kiera knelt. The line quivered.

I smiled. "Like a bat out of Hell!" I yelled.

Her explosive start silenced the gun.

Her explosive finish gunned up the crowed.

* * *

><p><em>W. Kiera Crow<em>

_ One more race. One more race. I can do this. I can beat her. One more race. One more race._

"Um…Wendy? Wendy Crow?"

To coin a phrase: _Oh bloody…_

I turned and expected a reporter. After winning my third race by a mile, **(1)** the Gloucester press went a little nutty. They were literally up my spanks with questions, photos, and interviews. So, I was surprised (and relieved) too see instead a kid. Vaguely noticing his orange track-jacket, whistle, and stopwatch I judged that he was a coach. Probably an assistant coach because he couldn't be much older than Aydyn or I.

"It's _Kiera_," I said tartly, "_Kiera_ Crow."

I continued to dorsiflex as if he wasn't there.

But the dude in orange was not phased. Scratching the back of his head, he frowned at his clipboard. "Riiiight. Doesn't say that on the roster list."

He paused and gave me a hard look. "Middle name?"

I really wanted him to drop it. "Yes."

FYI my middle name is Kiera. I was going to put this in a footnote, but this is a pet peeve area of mine. So, once again you'll have to suck it up and deal with character development.

In any case, my real name is….Wendy. **(2)** It is an unfortunate consequence of my mother's English heritage and her obsession with the _Peter Pan _story. Honestly, scientists are secretly the most romantic people on the planet.

Now, I don't mind having a literature-inspired first name….but _Wendy_? Come on! Personally, if I had to choose a fictional namesake, it would be something bad-ass like Elekra, Medea, Katherina, Morgana, Arwen, or Cimorene. Hell, I would take Minnie Mouse over Wendy! **(3)**

My mom had NINE MONTHS to dig up a better name! However, my mother maintains that my biological father use to call her Wendy, so the name stuck.

Sounds sweet, right?

Wrong. My father never married my mom. Apparently he disappeared right after I was born. So, that leaves me with a name I hate, handpicked by the leech that broke my mother's heart. _Fabulous_.

"Ok then, _Kiera_," the kid was smiling his face off. For some reason I was getting the impression he was overcompensating. No one had a grin that wide without a deep dark secret hiding behind it.

"I wanted to congratulate you. Nice race you just had. Winning by 1700 meters: impressive. You must have wings on those heels."

He paused and looked at me expectantly; as if I was suppose to laugh at his joke.

When I did not, he continued, clearing his throat, "Your-er-parents must be proud….Mom perhaps?"

Any residual adrenaline pumping through my system shut off.

"Probably not." I answered bitterly. I searched the bleachers. Mom was not there. "Definitely not."

The kid smiled. "Yeahhhhh…don't be so sure, Wendy."

For some reason, I got really angry. How _dare_ he talk like he knows my mom! How _dare_ he imply she cares! If she cared, she would have done a million things moms are suppose to do for their daughters before big races. If she cared, she would have made me breakfast, wished me luck, and kissed me goodbye. If she cared…she wouldn't have walked through the front door without a backward glance this morning.

I was just about to sink my teeth through his orange baseball cap when a heavy hand clutched my shoulder.

Aydyn.

"I told you once," Aydyn said, glaring, "My runners don't frat with the enemy."

"Harsh," the kid said, "but better enemies than friends, right? _Coach?_"

Aydyn's eyes flickered dangerously. "Beat it."

"Make me."

Something was wrong. Aydyn pressed against me. "Listen to me you son of a—"

"First call open 1500." The loud speaker censored the rest of Aydyn's sentence, "First call open 1500. All 1500 meter runners please go to the line."

The kid smiled.

Although Aydyn was seething behind me, I couldn't break eye contact with the kid. There was something…_wrong_ with him. It was like he had opened a closet full of skeletons right in front of me, but I couldn't see it.

Tipping his orange cap, the kid winked at me, "See you at the line. Good luck. You'll need it...Wendy."

I frowned.

"What did he mean by that?" I asked as Aydyn spit at the kid's back, "That _I'll need it_?"

Aydyn rubbed his mouth, "Forget it, Kiera. His runner is _that girl._ Nothing huge."

"Wait, _that girl?_" I repeated, following Aydyn to the track, "As in, _Miss-Ranked-Ahead-Of-Me_? _That girl_, that girl?"

"Yup."

"Shit."

"Relax Kiera. You panic when I tell you to panic. Tie your flats."

"Aydyn!" I protested, nervous for the first time in my life, "Did you see her? Did he say anything about her? Why was he talking to me?"

Scowling, Aydyn batted at my questions.

"I don't know Kiera, the kid's a maniac! Quit worrying, you're wasting energy! Besides, I wouldn't worry. I mean, the kid called you We—"

I glowered.

"-thaaaaahhh 'W-word,'"Aydyn corrected carefully, "…and every coach on the east coast calls you Kiera or Crow. So how smart could he be? They obviously haven't been tracking you."

"Haven't been tracking me," I muttered darkly.

Inhaling deeply, I spotted the orange baseball cap. The kid was whispering fervently to someone. It was a girl. I only caught the impression of a punk-rocker before realizing the girl was staring at me with electric blue eyes and a steely grimace.

"Right," I breathed, as the girl raised a thin eyebrow. Clearly, this was _'that girl'_ and she was seriously freaking me out.

"Aydyn are you sure?"

Aydyn glanced at me. Then, shaking my shoulder he laughed.

"Kiera…you're the only thing in this world I am ever sure about. Now get the bloody Hell to the line and run this race."

I grinned, "Like the wind?"

"Damn straight."

**Kiera's Footnotes**

**1. Literally, I won by a mile. 10 kilometer race. Long race, easy run.**

**2. Hurl.**

**3. Actually, I probably wouldn't. Whatever.**

* * *

><p><em>Aydyn Owl<em>

"Hey. Tell Crow to go easy on us this time, ya?"

McGregor smiled, handing me the stopwatch.

"Sorry Coach," McGregor smiled at the Boston coach as I monitored Kiera's practice start, "Crow doesn't know how to loose."

"Maybe not this time," smirked the Boston coach. I glared as he pointed to the line. "Check out the first seed from CHB. Long legs. Strong arms."

"She's slower," I said easily, watching the spikey-haired girl stride confidently across the track. She was skinny but had powerful shoulders busting out of her orange uniform.

Ignoring McGregor, I turned to the other coaches, "Crow's beat her time off the record by a solid minute."

"Really?" McGregor frowned at me as the coaches dispersed to give last minute instructions to their runners.

"How should I know?" I said, resetting the stopwatch, "I lied."

Sighing, McGregor fished out his own stopwatch, "Good gods, Aydyn. Sometimes I can't decide if I hated you more as a runner or as an assistant coach."

"Um, I threw javelin," I corrected absentmindedly, "and you loved every second of it."

McGregor grunted. "Enchanting. Aydyn…the first seed. Does she look funny to you?"

This is why I love coaching one on one with McGregor. The dude was perceptive. Almost as good as me. _(The whole 'head coach,' 'assistant coach' thing is pure banter, by the way)._

"Yeah," I agreed, watching the girl in orange. She wasn't warming up like the other runners. She was just standing there. Occasionally her fingers would twitch reflexively, as if something had brushed against them.

"Looks like she's got in for Crow," McGregor noted warily as Kiera passed the line. The punk-rocker was sizing her up with narrow eyes.

McGregor nudged me. "You want to get in there until the start?"

_Tempting_...

Rubbing my jaw, I considered the girl.

"Nah," I finally decided, "Kiera can take her."

McGregor rolled his eyes, "That's not what I meant, Aydyn."

"McGregor…" Taking the head coach by the shoulders, I gave him a fun shake, "…you know me to be a master of all things knowledgeable"

"Jury's still out. Get off of me."

"So how..." I continued, "...could you possibly doubt me? Seriously McGregor, _reee-lax_! The mile is Kiera's race. She _owns_ this event. I mean just look at that Aerosmith-wanna-be over there! She's got nothing!"

"Besides," I added darkly, "her coach is a bloody idiot."

McGregor raised an eyebrow. "I don't know Aydyn. He seemed pretty aggressive at the coach's meeting."

"And stupid," I scoffed.

Scanning the line of coaches on the field, I focused on the CHB coach. He was pretty easy to find, sporting that neon orange baseball cap and all. Right now, the fool had segregated himself from the other coaches and was twirling a ballpoint pen absentmindedly.

McGregor was still doubtful. "I don't know, Aydyn. Just don't underestimate CHB until after the race."

"Please," I grumbled, clicking the reset button on my stopwatch. The runners were gathering at the line. "The CHB coach is dumb as bricks. Get this, McGregor—he thinks Crow's name is Wendy!"

McGregor looked up. "That is her name."

"Not in the running world," I said, watching Kiera as the track official gave instructions. "Every reporter and track coach on the east coast knows she doesn't go by Wendy. I mean, you'd basically have to live under a rock to...to..."

I stopped. Suddenly it hit me—the CHB kid had called Kiera by her first name. He had called her Wendy. Wendy?!

My stomach writhed.

_No one_ in organized running called her Wendy. _No one_. Kiera was too well known, to feared (thanks to me). Either the kid was out of the loop or…something else…

"Runners! Step to the line!"

My mind raced. McGregor was right. I could feel it. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"On your mark…"

Dropping my stopwatch, I made for the line, pushing past the coaches.

"Set…"

I broke through the crowd. Kiera's body was loaded like a spring, ready to pounce over the line.

My stomach dropped.

Blue electricity was crackling over the metal tacks sticking from the bottom of Kiera's racing flats. The sparks skittered between my sister's shoes….and up the punk rocker's calves.

"Bloody…Kiera!"

"GO!"


	4. Chapter 4: Detonate

**Chapter 4: Detonate**

_Aydyn Owl_

"I KNEW IT!"

The CHB kid didn't even see me coming.

Well, maybe he did…ok judging by the way he whipped out this really fly sword and stabbed it at my chest, he probably saw me coming.

But it didn't matter. I was angry as a tiger. My half sister was sprinting around a track with electricity buzzing up her legs and a human outlet hot on her heels!

Now, I may not always score 10/10 on the angelic scale. But I know cheating when I see it. And I am not a cheater.

"What the Hell!" Lunging backwards, I tripped over a pile of javelins as the kid swiped at me. It wasn't graceful, but the fall did serve two useful purposes. One, I just missed having my head chopped off by the dude's sword. Two, I now had a weapon.

_I now had a weapon? Huh? What is this? Hunger Games comes to Gloucester? _

But it might as well have been. It was like my fingers had a mind of their own as they curled around the shaft of the javelin. Raising my arm like lighting I somehow sensed the weight of the javelin against the pull of my muscles. My body was taut, connected to the javelin like a medieval pulley ready to spring into the face of the enemy…

"Whoa…"

I'm pretty sure the kid was surprised as I was when the javelin nicked the sword right out of his hand. Both weapons spun wildly before embedding into the soft turf, and (in the case of the sword) turning into a ballpoint pen.

"Ok…"I breathed as the kid stared at me, "…that was cool."

Two seconds later, we were fighting like mad dogs.

"Turn off your runner!" I yelled through his hands. The kid started to speak, but I shouldered his stomach. "Get her off my sister or I'll report you to the USATF! I'll take you apart with my bare…my bare…oh—"

"—my gods." The kid finished, eyes wide.

* * *

><p><em>W. Kiera Crow<em>

I heard the roaring when the girl caught me.

Her orange uniform flickering in the corner of my eye, I charged forward. Learning into the curve, I tore pass the 300 meter mark. Below, my legs were blurs, snapping and extending like whips.

But I could hear her breathing, riding along with my stride. Sharp pains spiraled up my legs and over my toes. My ears started to pop. Roaring filled my head.

I ran faster. Smoke must have been burning out of my feet because Aydyn was screaming, hopping up and down like a mad man, and strangling the CHB coach. Vaguely, I could see him mouthing my name as I sprinted over the line and into my last lap.

And then, I saw the sky.

Dark and churning, the clouds flexed like black muscles ready to pound the living daylights out of Gloucester. The wind ripped the bandana from my head as I rounded the track, the punk rocker on my heels. Her foot nicked mine and I shouted as hot pain stabbed up my leg all the way to my teeth.

And then…

…everything exploded.


	5. Chapter 5: Storm

**Chapter 5: Storm **

_Aydyn Owl_

Holy massive explosion Batman!

Electric blue microburst. Searing, raw heat. Roaring winds. Bodies ripped apart like rag dolls. Tearing, thundering, flashing, flinging….

There was just enough time for three things to happen at once.

_First:_ The CHB kid grabbed my right arm.

_Second:_ Linda—the really hot sprinter flirting with me yesterday—grabbed my left arm.

_Third:_ McGregor cancelled the meet.

And…oh yeah….Linda (the really hot sprinter)….well, she kinda turned into a monster…

…and tried to eat me…

_Then_ everything exploded.

And I'll say it again:

Holy massive explosion Batman.

* * *

><p><em>W. Kiera Crow<em>

My body twisted upward. But I didn't fall. I dangled in the air, wrenching back and forth like some sick puppet as black clouds clapped into my face. Bursts of white light made me dizzy and disoriented, and the roaring bled into my ears.

Legs kicking, I held out my hands, praying against all hope that I would grab onto something. Anything.

My fingers closed around a hand. I screamed as white hot energy burned through my bones and the punk rocker's face dissolved from the clouds. Horrified, I watched her climb up my arm. Her nails dug into my skin and her eyes crackled like blue sparklers as the wind tried to rip her into the storm.

The pain was unbearable. Her fingers left cigarette marks on my arm and my body shook with electricity. My nerves were screaming bloody murder to my brain and in a horrible instant, I felt like my back was splitting open.

"Stop!" I screamed. "Stop! STOP!"

BANG!

The girl lunged for my neck as the storm swallowed us whole.

Someone told me to start flying…which I thought was strangely obvious.


	6. Chpt 6: Don't Tick Off the Sea Monster

**Chapter 6:** **Please Don't Tick Off The Sea Monster**

_Aydyn Owl_

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Yes, I'll be the first to admit it—I screamed like a little girl. But seriously, after having a sword thrust at my heart, nearly eaten alive by a hot chic, and vaulted 2,000 meters into the air, I think I deserve a little break. I mean, it had been a really hard day!

And apparently it was about to get a lot worse.

SPLAT!

After a graceful, astronomical fall, I belly-flopped into the Atlantic Ocean. I sank a good amount before scurrying my butt back to the surface.

Deep water. I hated deep water.

Exploding through the cold waves, I opened my mouth to breath. I dove back under as the CHB kid crashed on my head. Bloody: the Atlantic is pretty big. He had to land bullseye on me? Puh.

We raced to the surface, spitting and coughing. Saltwater stung my eyes as I searched for the CHB kid. I was going to kill him.

"I am going to kill you!"

The kid looked at me. "Oh crap. Hey! Hey! Hold still! Halt! At ease!"

I had to give him credit: kid was a pretty good swimmer. Good thing too, because the second I caught him, this kid was shark-feed.

"This is no time to panic!" yelled the kid, kicking water at my face, "Dude, cool it! This is no time to panic!"

"No time to panic?" Incredulously, I slapped the water, "Are you tripping, Fool? Look around you! This is the Atlantic Ocean! We are floating on the gates of HELL!"

"Um…Dude…"

"I might as well have a sign on my butt that says '_Live Bait Hit Me With Your Best Shot!_'"

"…Dude…"

"And you're telling me NOT TO PANIC?!"

"…well..."

It was then that I noticed the shadow. The shadow…_underneath_ us.

Cold currents licked my sneakers. Tiny bubbles snuck up my shirt. The water below our floating bodies bled like a black cavity.

"Oh bloody." Frantically, I paddled backwards. The shadow only grew. "Oh bloody, oh bloddy, oh bloody."

"Not helping with the imagery, Scottland Yard." mumbled the CHB kid. He fished for something in his pockets. I gave him props for sticking his hands underwater.

"Crap," he cursed, looking to the sky, "Where's that pen? This is not good."

"Oh no shit Sherlock?" Two can play this game. Scottland Yard my dead-meat butt. "Thanks for the infomercial. What do you do next, tell the tuna there's a new brand of mayo on the market?"

"Would you shut up?"

The bloody nerve. I was so mad that for a wonderful second, the fact that some horrific sea monster was below us slipped my mind. I opened my mouth to give it back to him, but I stopped.

An enormous, jagged fin sliced through the water between us.

And when the distorted, disgusting humanoid-shark rose from the ocean, I was genuinely grateful that my pants were already wet. And I was a little surprised. It's not everyday you see a giant shark with a mangled face that looks like someone sewed on part of a corpse.

"…Bloody…"

The monster's beady eyes focused. Then, it grinned toothily at me. I gulped. "Bloody…you are the grossest thing I've ever seen. Ow!"

I glared as the CHB kid as monster swelled angrily. "_Please_…" the CHB kid hissed under his breath, "…_don't tick off the sea monster_."

An alarm went off in my peripheral vision as the monster swerved closer. It started speaking in a creepy-crawly voice just as I noticed a bronze shimmer beneath the water at the kid's side.

"Gross, huh? Well you demigods look yummy to Akhelios."

"Akhelios?" The CHB kid said, edging in my direction. The gross monster—er Akhelios—was skimming around me in circles, toothy grin sifting salt water. "Wait…the same Akhelios that thought he was more beautiful than Aphrodite?"

"Whoa, whao! It _talks_?"

The CHB kid ignored my mini freak out. "And the same Akhelios that was turned into a sea demon?"

"You're telling me the shark mutant is a _mermaid_?"

Well, my problem list couldn't have gotten any longer!

"Yes…" Akhelios darted in, "Say yum, yum demigods."

Apparently I was wrong.

Trapped by miles of ocean, my eyes widened as Akhelios charged. To my right the CHB kid was lifting his sword from the water, but he was seconds too late.

It happened again.

My muscles became alive. They waited like the barrel of a smoking cannon, burning with impatience on the verge of exploding. And when Akhelios opened his big scary teeth, I punched him. Smack on the nose.

"The sword!" I screamed, pointing wildly at the CHB kid as Akhelios writhed. Waves rolled up my nostrils and into my mouth. "The sword! Quick! Stick him!"

The CHB kid was already moving, knifing through the water like some psycho dolphin or something. The bronze shaft attracted Akhelios and the shark swerved sharply as the kid struck a blow. The blade skimmed across the armored scales before sticking into the monster's gills.

Akhelios roared. The CHB kid dove away from the slashing fins as the monster tried to shake off the blade. When the sword didn't budge, Akhelios charged at us, gnashing his teeth through the water.

"Oh great!" I yelled, pumping my arms has hard as I could. "Now he's mad! Way to go!"

The CHB kid scowled at me between strokes. "You're the one that broke his nose!"

"At least I hit my mark! AH!"

I lurched backward. Salt water spurted up my throat as the monster dragged me under by the shoe lace. Panic ballooned in my chest as the ocean turned dark green over my head.

Reflexively, I kicked, but the shoe would not come off. Akhelios was pulling the laces so tight that the circulation had cut off and my toes felt like they were going to burst. Then, my brain started to buzz for oxygen. My vision started to go static.

I had to get out of this.

Twisting into a ball, I crouched and grabbed the lace. The look on Akhelios' face was enough to make me puke, but using the taut lace as a springboard I lunged for the sword still sticking from the monster's gill.

I seized the hilt and crunched it down.

Akhelios' roar made the ocean tremble. I covered my ears but two hands grabbed my wrist and wrenched me upwards. Amazed, I watched the ocean race by as the CHB kid sprinted toward the surface, Akhelios on my heels.

"Don't stop!" I shouted when we hit the air. Akhelios' shadow hurdled toward us. "Swim! Swim! Swim! That way!"

"No!" yelled the CHB kid, pulling me in the opposite direction, "Away! Swim away! Swim away! Swim away!"

"Away?" I tore my arm from him, "Away from...what the…?"

But my eyes were glued on the sky. More specifically, my eyes were glued on the ball of wind and electricity screaming down from the storm. There was something inside the ball…something with too many arms and legs. Another monster?

I squinted.

"Bloody…Kiera?"

"It's Thalia!" The CHB kid yanked my collar, "Swim!"

Then it hit me. Looking pass my sister's tumbling body, I saw the electricity. I looked down. Water.

Akhelios' jaws opened around my feet.

"Bloody."

I kicked, connecting again with Akhelios' nose. I turned and swam for dear life, the wind screaming in my ears one second before the ball of electricity hit.

The ocean spasmed. Waves spiked into the sky.

And then, all lights went out.


	7. Chapter 7: Welcome to Camp Half Blood

**Chapter 7: Welcome to Camp Half Blood**

_W. Kiera Crow_

Ouch.

There was sand up my spanks, seaweed in my sneakers, and the taste of metal in my mouth. I had just enough energy to tilt my head to the side before someone leapt over me.

"Kiera! Kiera! You ok? Ok, don't move!"

I cringed. "Aydyn?" Squinting through the stars bouncing in my brain, I watched Aydyn's fuzzy outline tackle the CHB coach.

"Aydyn," I called, rolling onto my stomach. Pain screamed up the sides of my neck and between my shoulder blades. It was like someone had set my spinal cord on fire.

"Oh god…" I moaned. My vision faded. "Aydyn!" I shouted waving my hand in front of my eyes. "Aydyn! Aydyn I can't see! Aydyn! Aydyn! I can't—"

I stopped. The ground was rumbling beneath me. And something—a lot of somethings—was running at me.

"Stop!" A girl's voice rang through the air, clear as a bell. "Hold the chariots! Bring round the horses! There's someone…Percy?"

"Percy!"

"Good gods! He's under attack!"

"Look! Someone's hurt! Go get Chiron, right now!"

"Hey! Annabeth! Where's Annabeth?"

"To arms!"

"Charge!"

It seemed that a thousand feet ran by, shrieking and kicking sand into my face. The words they cried were unfamiliar but I understood them. They were battle cries. They were going to kill Aydyn.

I rose, trying to push through the rocks in my head. An arm looped under my waist catching me before I fell. I grunted, falling against something metal. My arms immediately started to search the person that held me.

"Take it easy." A boy's voice said in my ear. He placed a hand on my forehead. It felt cool against my skin. "Don't worry, your safe now."

"Wanna bet, Looser!?"

Aydyn.

I crashed into the sand as Aydyn presumably rammed into the guy that held me.

"Run Kiera!" Aydyn's voice trumpeted over the uproar, "Get up! Run! Run!"[1]

I don't know what happened next. Everything went mute. I started to shake and my backbone snapped up and down like a fish out of water. I felt like a monster was trying to climb out from under my shoulder blades. It hurt so much, I just wanted to die.

When I woke up, I thought I had.

_…Flashback…_

_White everywhere. White pearls. White rose petals in a white basket. White tulle veils, miles and miles long. White off the shoulder chiffon with white lace finish. And a little white diamond ring with a little white sparkle on her mother's little white finger._

_Kiera looked back at herself in the mirror. Lost in a white tea dress, she could only find her black eyes. _

_ Worriedly, Kiera glanced over her shoulder. Just another mirror, but she was sure Aydyn would somehow find out that she was in this ridiculous dress. Kiera blinked, hoping the reflection would look better. But it did not. She felt incredibly, incredibly stupid._

_ "Well, Ladies! Isn't that darling!"_

_ Four women in matching peacock blue dresses flocked around Kiera, patting her hair and fluffing her skirt. Kiera recoiled but the ladies cooed harder._

_ "Look at our little flower girl!"_

_ "How adorable!"_

_ "Cute as buttons."_

_ "Do you feel like a princess, Honey?"_

_ Relieved that she could relate, Kiera offered shyly, "My Dad calls me Princess."_

_ The ladies glanced at each other. "Awwwwww," they said with puckered lips. Kiera looked around uneasily as the eldest lady started to stroke her snarled hair. "Poor Dear. You mean Keagan, don't you Dear."_

_ Kiera cocked her dead. She nodded. "My Dad."_

_ "Precious," announced the elder lady, planting a kiss on Kiera's head, "Simply precious. Of course…you were just a wittwle baby-waby at the time."_

_ "Time of what?" asked the youngest lady. Hungrily, she hung on the elder ladies shoulder, "What? What?"_

_ "Oh well, you were just a teenager at the time…but…"knowingly, the elder lady placed both hands over Kiera's ears and whispered, "…She's a bastard! Her father was a tramp! Left Mary with this child out of wed-lock! Poor thing cried her eyes out for months!"_

_ "No!"_

_ "Yes."_

_ The four women jumped. Flustered, they turned. Mary, hugged by a stunning wedding dress, stood in the dressing room doorway. The mirrors reflected her angry blue eyes from every angle as the women offered their excuses._

_ "If you don't mind," Mary interrupted, "My daughter needs fitting. You may leave."_

_ Kiera watched the ladies exit. Her mother's face softened as she lifted her mermaid gown and knelt by her daughter's side. _

_ "You look lovely, Kiera. But…"Mary's eyes flickered over the mountains of taffeta. "…Kiera did you like this one?"_

_ "No."_

_ Mary smiled. "I didn't think so. Let's try on another. How about...this one?" Kiera considered the champagne dress Mary held up. She liked that it was not white. Or puffy. She nodded. _

_ Mary was quiet as Kiera slipped the dress over her head. Uneasily, she folded her fingers in and out as her daughter scrunched her nose at the mirror._

_ "Mom?"_

_ Mary looked up, smiling quickly. "What is it Baby? Oh…Baby you look beautiful."_

_ Unable to resist, Mary stood behind Kiera. "Just like an angel," she said, smoothing Kiera's long hair. "Wait until Keagan and Aydyn see you."_

_ Kiera stared at her mother's reflection. "Mom, what does bastard mean?"_

_ Mary froze. "It's a bad word, Kiera," she said, turning her daughter around. Pink blotches colored Mary cheeks. "And a terrible thing to call anyone."_

_ "But what does it mean?"_

_ Mary knelt. Taking both of Kiera's hands, she squeezed tight. "It means…" she said carefully, "…it means that your biological father and I never had a wedding like this."_

_ Kiera narrowed her eyes, confused. She did not know what 'biological' meant, but she knew that, unlike other kids in school, she did not know who her dad was, or where he was, or why he wasn't living with Mom. As for the wedding…_

_ "Did the police make him leave because he didn't have a wedding?"_

_ Mary's face broke into a smile. "No, Baby. Police don't do that." _

_ "…so he went away by himself?"_

_ "Yes...but he had to leave." Mary fumbled indecisively with her words, "He…was… he couldn't stay with us."_

_ Kiera nodded. "Ok."_

_ Mary blinked as Kiera returned to the mirror. She had expected this conversation to be harder. And longer. "Ok?"_

_ "Ok." Kiera tugged at her sash, "He doesn't love me. I don't love him."_

_ Mary's heart sank. Awash with memories both agonizing and wonderful, she envied Kiera's simplicity. Biting her lips, Mary pondered, working the truth over her tongue._

_ "Kiera…come here." Tenderly, Mary embraced her daughter. "Listen to me," she said gently, "I promise that your Daddy loved you very much."_

_ Kiera's gaze was hard as stone." Then why did he go away?"_

_ Mary's voice disappeared. Stalling, she carefully brushed hair from Kiera's forehead._

_ "Because…" Mary swallowed, unable to look her daughter in the eye, "…because, your Daddy is…your Daddy is a…"_

_ "Mom."_

_ Kiera's face was stern. "Can't Keagan just be my Dad?"_

_ Tearfully, Mary hugged her daughter. "Gods be willing," she whispered, heart breaking, "Gods be willing."_

_W. Kiera Crow_

"Good morning. Welcome to Camp Half Blood."

I blinked. I blinked again. Real hard. [2]

But they did not disappear: at the foot of my bed stood a blonde with a sword, a surfer dude covered completely in eyes, and a centaur. Oh my god, a centaur.

"Ok…" I backed up against my pillow, "…which one of you is God?"[3]

The centaur smiled. Even the surfer dude's billion eyes twinkled. But the blonde warrior chick groaned. "Great." she said, casting a glance at her companions. "Already this is going to be a picnic."

The centaur (obviously he was the head hancho of the group) shook his head, but looked amused all the same. Stroking his scraggly beard, the centaur clip-clopped around the bed until he'd reached my side.

He looked down at me. Although I tried my best, I couldn't help but check out his bottom half. Yep. Definitely horse. Swallowing, I looked back into the centaur's smiling face.

"Good morning," he said again, "My name is Chiron, administrator of Camp Half Blood." He nodded to the girl and the surfer dude, "And this is Annabeth and Argus, neither are which are God. So sorry to disappoint you."

I watched his tail swish. Ok, so I wasn't dead. Good news.

I tried to smother the tremble in my throat. "…who are you again?"

"My name is Chiron."

"And where am I?"

"Camp Half Blood."

Ok, that meant nothing to me but it did not sound warm and fluffy.

"Where's Camp Half Blood?"

The centaur and surfer dude—Chiron and Argus—glanced at the Annabeth. She turned to address me and I suddenly noticed her eyes: they were grey as old ashes, displaced in her young face. They reminded me of someone…

"Long Island." Annabeth said curtly. She seemed irritated by my ignorance.

"Long Island?" My heart started to race. "Long Island! "But Long Island is in New York!"

The centaur placed a hand on my shoulder as Annabeth rolled her magnificent grey eyes, "Yes Long Island, New York. The north shore if you really want to know. Look it up, it's on every map."

I shook my head. It was all too much. I tried to get out of bed, but the centaur's grip tightened. "What am I doing in Long Island? How did I get here? Who—"

Cringing, I recoiled back onto my pillows. My shoulder blades were so sore. Massaging behind my neck, I tried to make sense of the pain.

Then I remembered.

_The meet. The punk rocker. The storm. The explosion. The electricity. The ocean. The beach. The blindness. The battle. Aydyn._

My eyes widened. But just as I opened my mouth, two men stormed through the door, arguing. The first, and loudest, man had a musical voice despite the shouting, and ash curls hanging over his glasses. Currently, he was ripping the hem of his long white coat from the hands of his porky, purple-nosed companion.

"Ah…" Chiron turned, releasing my shoulder, "Mr. D., right on time. And Doctor Hickey. We were just visiting with your patient."

The man in the white coat, presumably Dr. Hickey, glared over his glasses. "Yes," he snipped, marching pass Chiron and seizing my wrist. Affronted, I pulled it back but the annoyed doctor caught it with his other hand.

"Annoying my patient," continued Dr. Hickey, rotating my arm and lowering his glasses, "Disrupting much needed rest and raising her cortisol levels to the sun."

"Hmph," grunted Mr. D., snapping open a diet coke. I stared, not remembering him holding the soda when he came into the room. "_To the sun_? Suck up."

The doctor pursed his lips, but continued to inspect my arm. "Light," he muttered, to which the overhead lamps magically obliged. Then, he began to sing softly, almost imperceptivity. The lights flickered and a hot tingle prickled up my arm. I flinched and looked to the centaur, but he seemed preoccupied with the doctor's examination.

"Better…" Dr. Hickey nodded, rubbing my skin. He rose and cleared his throat smugly. "Second and third degree burns, but healing nicely."

I looked down. Faint, white scars polka-dotted my arm; I thought of the punk-rocker and her fingers of evil electricity. _She burned me? What was going on?_

Since I was getting nothing from the doctor, centaur, or fat-diet-soda-drinking-piglet,[4] and was frankly too scared to look the surfer dude in the eye,[5] I beseeched the blonde girl, Annabeth.

Annabeth was avoiding eye contact, but taking the opportunity to size me up. I was a little offended, until her scrutiny made me cognizant of my situation for the first time since waking up.

I was still in my Gloucester track uniform, but the blue material was charred. My sneakers were gone and someone had put those grip socks on my feet. I was in a long white bed with white linens, white pillows, and a long white IV sticking up my vein.

Everything indicated I was in a hospital, but as I looked passed the Fellowship of the Ring clustered around my bed, I knew I was definitely not.

My jaw dropped.

A war camp. I was in a war camp. Lining the white walls were identical white beds, regimented in neat rows. Each station was stocked with standard medical equipment, a jar of gold coins, and an engraved shield hanging over the bedposts like dream catchers.

Kids a little older than me, all wearing short white coats, crossed between bunks, methodically attending to patients. I figured they must be residents or med-students or something because they looked dog tiered and kept throwing murderous glances at Dr. Hickey.

One boy, his handsome features strikingly similar to Dr. Hickey, mouthed an obscenity in Hickey's direction as he eased a dagger out of his patient's thigh.

I stared, engrossed. But the bloody dagger was the mildest of cases. There were five other patients in the room: A boy strangled by writhing vines, a little girl with three arrows in her calf, another dude with a bronze shield smashed around his neck, and two smoking goat mutants.

"Take her to _orientation_?" I jumped as Dr. Hickey slapped down his clipboard. Furiously he placed both hands on his knees until eye level[6] with Mr. D. "With all due respect, Mr. D., the stress would—"

"Stress. Hmph." Mr. D. glared at me with deep purple eyes, "Wimps. All you demigods are wimps."

_Demigods?_

"She's been electrocuted by Zeus' lightning!" Hickey straightened. "And with _all_ due respect Mr. D., but _you_ of _all_ encounters should sympathize!"

_Zeus?_

Mr. D. didn't budge, but the soda can cracked. "I couldn't care less if the little white rat died on your watch Jaclyn—"

"My name is Jason and I prefer Dr. Hickey—with all due respect!"

"—but Chiron insists that the timing of the prophecy…you _prefer_ Hickey?"

_Prophecy?_

Dr. Hickey threw up his hands. "This is ridiculous!" Exasperated he rounded on the centaur. "Chiron! Be reasonable! She hasn't even been claimed by a god yet!"

_Claimed by a god?_

"Well," interjected Mr. D., "She is not mine! And of course she's a demigod: Grover tracked this one for months. And just look at that rag-taggle hair—spitting image of Hermes."

_Hermes?_

Dr. Hickey was beyond professional courtesy. "You can't determine parentage on subjective evidence alone!"

Mr. D.'s black eyebrows shot up. I thought the doctor better can it, but Hickey was livid, "We need empirical substantiation, and until that time it is my medical opinion that she not be stressed more than necessary! I've seen it happen to mortals dozens of times before—"

_Mortals?_

"—the shock may kill her!"

_Kill?!_

Ok, I'd had enough.

"No!"

Chiron reared as Dr. Hickey shrieked and seized my IV. Without loosing speed, I jerked and ripped out the tube. It hurt but two second later I was sprinting out the door.

I didn't get far.

Everything was a blur as I ran. Somehow, I knew that no one could catch me.

But something caught my eye, stopping me dead in my tracks.

It was Aydyn.

He was fighting like a wild bull.

And he was trapped. Fenced in.

With a bunch of winged horses.

A hand slid under my arm as Aydyn and I made eye contact.

"Welcome," Annabeth said dryly, "to Camp Half Blood."

* * *

><p><strong>Kiera's Footnotes<strong>

**[1]Kinda feeling electrocuted at the moment, Aydyn.**

**[2]**** Great writing, right? ;)**

**[3]**** My money was on the horse guy but I seriously hoped it was the surfer dude.**

**[4]**** Yeah, THAT diet's sure working.**

**[5]**** ….er, eyeS…**

**[6]**** More or less.**


	8. Chapter 8 : Run

**Chapter 8: Run**

_Aydyn Owl_

"RUN!"

I screamed and Kiera was off like a shot. The blonde chick that had snuck up behind her made chase, but Kiera blew her away. In a couple of quick strides Kiera had made it past the pavilion, over the hill, and into the woods.

I knew that Kiera would run for help. It was a small triumph. But for the time being I was alone.

But at least I knew that Kiera was ok. The ball of wind and electricity had knocked us out cold. I zapped to consciousness seconds before a giant tidal waved pushed us into the shore. Kiera had been in pretty bad shape. I wasn't sure she would make it out alive. Especially when we were attacked.

It had been pretty scary. Never in my life had I felt so defensive, so bloodthirsty. Interestingly though, my head had been clear. As a matter of fact, everything settled sharply into focus as I bulldozed through the CHB kid. And I would have chopped him into ground beef too, had not his army _suddenly_ come to the rescue.

And yeah, can we talk about this _army_ for a freakin' sec? It was a legit army! I'm talking armored cavalry with chariots, horses, knives and swords. And not the harmless copycat cinema weapons: after one slash to the arm I could feel that this was real metal work. I should know, being a striker for Haydyn.

A flicker in the corner of my eye made me drop all sentiment. The blonde chick was approaching. A bunch of _Lord of the Rings_ rejects were with her.

I had about ten seconds to look for a weapon.

No dice.

After the CHB kid's army kidnapped Kiera, they decided to take me along for the ride. Long story short, I got my butt whooped and spent the better half of my day shackled and blindfolded.

My kidnappers were not the nicest bunch either. They got kinda upset when we arrived – probably because I bit one. He swore in a language I didn't understand and dumped me in a pile of horse poo conveniently located behind a huge fence.

So I was basically imprisoned.

But that wasn't half of it. They must have been injecting toxic fumes into the air, because I started hallucinating – specifically the owner of the horse poo (and his friends) sprouted _wings_ as they galloped curiously toward me.

I looked to my right. A hallucinogenic winged horse was staring at me.

"Oi." The hallucinogenic winged horse blinked. I nodded at the blonde chic and her fairytale friends. "You wanna morph into something a little more threatening than _My Little Pony?_ Huh? Do a guy a favor? No?"

Again, the hallucinogenic winged horse blinked. Geeze. Anticlimactic trip. I would be a really bad hippie.

"Have it your way." Flexing both arms overhead, I cracked my neck. "Guess I'll have to handle this myself….HEY YOU!"

The blonde chick looked up at me. Quickly, I noticed her spectacular grey eyes before calmly finishing my sentence, "LET ME OUT OF THIS RENAISSANCE FAIR!"

The blonde chic with grey eyes didn't look amused but her scruffy centaur friend was tickled pink. I didn't know how comfortable I felt having the centaur appreciate my humor but there wasn't much time for me to stress about it: the blonde chic had hopped over the fence, flapped a _Yankee's_ baseball cap from her back pocket…and disappeared.

"Damn Yankees." I breathed. It felt ridiculous but I threw my arms out, feeling for the invisible blonde chic. Still scanning over my fingers, I backed into a corner post. If she was going to jump me I wanted it to be a front attack, where my hands could grab her throat.

The small of my back straightened against the fence post. I thought about jumping over, but a group of armed kidnappers had been heckling me all day, waiting for me to make a move. I thought I heard someone breathing as my feet dug into the mud.

Mud. I looked down. Lots of mud. Sinking my toe into the mushy earth, I kicked. Globs of mud sprayed into the air. Chunks splattered immediately to my left, forming into half a leg and outstretched hand.

Lunging, I caught the blonde chic's invisible leg in a bear hug. I tried to pop back u, but she was quicker than I thought. Instead of tumbling back, she seized the back of my head and we both crashed down.

I'm not sure what happened next, but next thing I knew the Yankee's baseball cap was under my butt and the blonde chic was holding a dagger to my throat.

"Oh yeah?" I growled watching the centaur and company from the corner of my eye. The blonde chic raised an eyebrow. "Well the joke's on you, Sister! Pretty soon I'm gonna wake up and post this dream to my Facebook page!"

"This is not a dream young man."

I tried not to squirm away as the centaur knelt beside me. It was tough not to let my guard down – he had very comforting eyes; worn and sturdy like aged leather.

"Then I hate to tell you this Pops," I said doggedly, "but Disney World is on the opposite end of the country…I think…"

A terrible thought suddenly hit me, "Where the bloody Hell am I?"

The blonde chic rolled her grey eyes. Her head mimicked the motion as she lowered the dagger, "Good Gods! It's like listening to a broken record!"

"Annabeth," the centaur reprimanded placing a hand on my shoulder, "Annabeth, be patient."

The blonde chic, Anna-whatever, seemed a little offended like I was the bad guy or something. "Patient? Patient, Chiron? She and he have been nothing but trouble all day!"

Angrily, she rounded on me. "You are in New York on the north shore of Long Island, in a _magical_ place called Camp Half Blood where the progeny of Greek gods and goddesses find out who they really are, discover where they _truly belong_, and cultivate their powers to fight monsters, save the world from evil forces uprooted from ancient Greek mythology, and live _happily ever after_. Got it!?"

I blinked.

"Go back…" I finally said, "…to the 'you are in New York' part."

* * *

><p><em>W. Kiera Crow<em>

Branches scratched my eyes, my cheeks, and my face. Blindly I ran, heart racing faster than a run-away train. I had no idea where I was going, but I didn't care. All I knew was that I needed to get help.

_WHOOSH!_

A torrent of leaves rushed into my eyes. Skidding backwards, I batted away dry leaves and sharp little twigs. Dirt flew into my mouth and ears as the leaves rattled in a wind strong enough to knock me over.

Over and over again I tripped backwards as the leaves and wind slapped into me. It wasn't long before I began to realize: I was being pushed slowly back from where I'd come…what had that girl called it? Camp Half Blood.

Desperately I grabbed a low branch and swung myself through the whorling leaves. Gasping, I crashed through nettles and underbrush. Behind me the leaves reeled, gathering like a serpent before springing onto my back. The wind knocked me between the shoulder blades and I shouted as pain radiated up the sides of my neck.

I fell, cracking over a rotting log. Dank moss filled my mouth and my nose as I crawled frantically away from the pounding leaves. Again and again the wind ground into my back. Each time I slammed down, pain burning up my neck. The leaves flew into my face like bats. I groped and clawed, but it was too much. Even when I tried to scream, the wind and leaves filled my mouth like locus.

"HEY! HEY! GRAB!"

I saw the hand and didn't even think. I grabbed and felt my knees scrape over the dirt as the boy in black dragged me through the leaves.

"RUN!"

The wind charged at us, kicking up rocks, dirt and uprooting saplings. Dark lines of trees blurred by and I caught slivers of the boy in black sprinting just behind me.

A gust that screamed like a banshee blasted us from the forest and onto a ledge. I kept running. Without thinking, I grabbed the boy's wrist. The boy was pulled back. But my momentum carried my feet past my body and over the earth.

"I can't stop!" I screamed, horrified as the edge tipped away. "I can't –"

We fell.

But as we fell, I saw something reflected in the boy's eyes. Something white and shiny. Something hovering over my head like a halo.

And before I blacked out, I looked up. I saw a man: a man with black, black eyes kneeling over the edge of the cliff.

He was laughing.


	9. Chapter 9: Who's Your Daddy?

**Chapter 9: Who's Your Daddy?**

_FLASHBACK_

_The house was so empty._

_Kiera sat, knees folded under her. She picked at the rug, numbly pulling out strings from the impossible pattern._

_"Kiera! Kiera where are you!?"_

_Kiera didn't answer. She stared at the rug._

_"…Kiera."_

_Mary's voice was thick, as if her windpipe was hardened with tar. _

_"Look at me. Now."_

_Kiera obeyed._

_But her mother looked away._

_Kiera closed her eyes. She did not understand. But something was different. Something would always be different._

_"You forgot me."_

_Mary flinched. She massaged her chest through the black overcoat._

_"Baby…"_

_"You forgot me."_

_"I told you to get into the jeep–"_

_"You forgot me!"_

_Mary stepped back as the curtains waved to life. Pillows somersaulted off the sofas, dirt spurted from the potted plants, and her black veil fluttered to the floor. _

_When all was still, mother and daughter stared at each other. Sand scratched the windows as the wind banged on the sill._

_Kiera's eyes gleamed. Her voice was hoarse. "You forgot me." she whispered, bowing her head. "And Keegan…and Aydyn…"Kiera covered her face._

_Mary collapsed over her daughter, sobbing without the black veil to hide behind. Kiera sat, wordlessly folding under her crying mother. _

_"Baby I'm sorry. I'm sorry."_

_Kiera let herself be pulled into the embrace._

_"I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for this. I'm sorry for all of this!"_

_Kiera wondered what her mother meant. But she knew, there was more to the apology. More than forgetting to take her to the funeral. What could it be? Kiera opened her eyes as a terrible thought entered her mind._

_"Aydyn's dead too. The big man killed him."_

_Mary choked. "Baby, Aydyn's not dead…he's…just…"_

_"Never coming back." Kiera glared out the window. "Like Keegan."_

_It was true. Kiera would later find out that a nor'easterly killed the man she had longed to call father, and that his brother, Hadyn, a creature cold as stone, had legally claimed the boy she longed to call brother._

_But had Mary not been crying into her daughter's hair, Kiera might have heard the wind telling her exactly why her happiness was supported by nothing more than a puppet string. _

* * *

><p><strong><em>W. Kiera Crow<em>**

"What…happened?" **(1)**

Aydyn's blurred outline recoiled at my feet. His hand quickly left my ankle.

"Kiera." I couldn't make out his features clearly, but I could tell he was leaning forward. "Kiera."

I blinked.

"Wake up,Wench!"** (2)**

Slowly, Aydyn came into focus. He looked terrible as I felt. His chin was scruffier than usual, and a pile of _Mountain Dew_ cans overflowed the seat beside him.

"What…" I pressed both knuckles into my eyes, "…what happened?

Aydyn worked the top of his soda bottle. "Well…" The bottle fizzed as Aydyn eeked out an answer, "Well, how much do you remember?"

I thought about it. "Only that…" Aydyn leaned forward, setting the bottle on a wooden railing. The railing was wrapped around an extensive porch overlooking a massive vista which was polka-dotted with flying horses and Parthenon-styled buildings. The sun was bright and it glinted off the armored vests and flying arrows.

I resisted the temptation to close my eyes. I took a deep breath. "Only that…we were electrocuted, captured, and imprisoned by psycho military fairytale creatures. In New York."

Aydyn nodded. "Yeah, I'd say you're up to speed."

My stomach grumbled. Sickened, I glanced again over the porch railing. A bunch of kids were decking it out with swords as long as my arm. One of them was pounding his chest with a round shield. I looked at Aydyn. He didn't look the least bit panicked.

"Did…we escape?"

"Hmmm?" Aydyn turned, distracted by the swordsmen, "What?" The swords clanked behind him.

I grimaced. "We didn't escape."

Aydyn shook his head. "No. But it's not what you think…I've been talking with Chiron – the horse dude. And…well, it's pretty unbelievable Kiera. Pretty bloody unbelievable."

I leaned back. The rocking chair I was in gave with me, and I jumped. Gripping the armrests didn't help unclench the rest of my body though.

"So it's…real?"

Aydyn nodded, watching me carefully.

"Everything?"

"I told you it was unbelievable."

I took a deep breath. "Ok…what else do you know?"

Aydyn shrugged. He popped open another _Mountain Dew_. "Probably as much as you know, but with more time to process."

I watched Aydyn's throat as he drained the soda. "I doubt it, Aydyn. They were talking about weird stuff. Prophesies, mortals, demigods, and – this was really weird – they kept mentioning I think _Greek_ gods. You know like Zeus and Hermes, the ones we learned about in middle school."

Aydyn fingered the soda can. He didn't say anything so I continued.

"And…they talked about the Greek gods as if…as if…" I felt embarrassed to even be thinking, let alone saying, this, "…as if…"

"As if they are real."

His definitiveness was shattering. Sharp lines creased Aydyn's face, underlying his weighted tone. There was no messing around this time – Aydyn was serious. He was actually serious. But that was impossible! The Greek gods and goddesses were myths, created by ancient dudes in white togas to explain natural phenomena.

And even – by some crazy chance – if the Greek gods were real, what could they possibly have to do with Aydyn and me? Aydyn still had traces of his Irish accent and all of my ancestors were British. Neither of us were Greek or Greek orthodox. I've never even eaten a gyro! **(3)**

I didn't know what to say, so I looked at Aydyn and shook my head. "That's…"

"Impossible?"

We turned. A group of four had ascended the steps: the centaur, a satyr wearing a rasta cap, and two girls. The first girl I recognized – Annabeth. She stood next to the satyr, overlooking us with the same judicious stare. The second girl was a few years younger than Annabeth, but she was beautiful. I mean disarmingly beautiful. She smiled as they approached and the centaur clip-clopped directly in front of me.

"Impossible." Repeated the centaur, his eyes aglow with sunlight. "Impossible as an electric storm at a track meet, winged horses, a satyr, and a centaur? Kiera?"

I didn't smile back, but felt Aydyn hiss into my ear. "Forgot to tell you…they know our names!"

I gave him a look. Then I moved it to the centaur. "Who are you?"

The centaur spoke evenly, as if he was trying not to freak me out. "My name is Chiron."

"That doesn't answer my question."

I thought I saw Annabeth smile. The centaur – Chiron – said, "Well as you can see, I am a centaur. A very authentic and organic centaur, without any commercial affiliation," he added, glancing pointedly at Aydyn as he spoke. "And, I am overseer of Camp Half Blood."

Camp Half Blood. That I remembered. From the look on Aydyn's face, I could tell that he was familiar with the name as well. We exchanged worried looks before I returned to the centaur. "In New York."

Chiron nodded. "You remember."

"Unfortunately." Aydyn said, moving closer. "But what is Camp Half Blood? A military camp? Apocalyptic training?"

Everyone but Annabeth smiled appreciatively. Aydyn glanced quickly at the beautiful girl before continuing. "And what's this about the Greek gods? And about being claimed or something. You said you'd explain."

The centaur held up a hand. Aydyn and I stopped but my mind was racing. I was getting impatient.

"There is much to explain." Chiron said "And there is much more that you will not believe at first."

"Dude," said Aydyn, "come on. You're a taking horse. I think we're obligated to believe anything you say at this point."

Chiron raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"

"I'd believe that you wear boxer briefs if you told me so."

The satyr hacked into his elbow as Chiron's mouth twisted. "Well…I can't think of a better seguiway. Can you Grover?"

The satyr dabbed his eyes with the corner of his rasta cap. "Nope."

"Very good…" Chiron said, tail swishing against the porch rails, "Then I'm going to get right into it. I think blunt is best. Aydyn….Kiera…"

The centaur looked us both in the eye. "You are children of the Greek gods."

Aydyn and I blinked. Then we burst out laughing.

I'm sorry, but I just couldn't help it! Chiron opened like he was about to proclaim the Ten Commandments to the Hebrew masses from Mount Sinai. I was expecting something a little more profound like _"Luke I am your father!" _or _"Smile! You're on Candid Camera!"_

"Riiiiiiiiight!" Aydyn pretended to slap his knee while Annabeth's scowl cut lines into her face. "Oh this is great! Did I also mention that Hannibal is my second cousin?"

The beautiful girl and Grover the satyr glanced nervously at Chiron. But the centaur had dignified our outburst with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

"Then you both know your parents?" Chiron asked conversationally.

"Of course we do!" Aydyn grinned, punching my shoulder, "My dad and Kiera's mom were basically – "

"—I mean," Chiron interrupted, "_both_ parents. Both _biological_ parents. Aydyn, your mother, and Kiera, your father."

The centaur's face flickered in to a small triumphant smile as our laughter extinguished. He looked like a hunter zeroing in on a deer.

"Whether or not you choose to believe," Chiron said softly, "the gods and goddesses of ancient Greece are real entities. They are immortal beings impregnated into the very forces that sustain the Earth and make thrive."

Slowly, Chiron placed a hand my armrest. The chair rocked slightly. "The gods – and their center of power – travel with Western society. Once, the fulcrum of western civilization was in Greece, hence the myths and legends of which you are familiar. Since, it has moved across the ocean and resides here, in the North American continent."

Chiron was tracking us closely. His leathery brown eyes moved fluidly between us as he spoke, "Frequently, the gods and goddesses fall in love with mortals. Humans of the earth. The children of such a marriage are called demigods. Half moral. And half immortal. Demigod."

I could feel the heat from Aydyn's body behind me. We both were smart enough to see where this conversation was going, but too disorientated to believe it. Plus…all I could think about was Keegan. Keegan and everything that should have been. Everything that wasn't. Well, judging by the way Aydyn's muscles were throbbing, I could tell he was reliving the exact same thoughts.

I wanted to tell Chiron to shut up – for his own safety. Aydyn was all sparkles and chuckles until you hit a raw nerve. But one thing Aydyn did not like to talk about was his dad. Keegan was personal property, and Chiron was trespassing pretty dangerously along Adydn's memory lane.

"Demigod children," Chiron continued as Aydyn folded fists over his knuckles, "obtain special powers from their god parent. These powers must be cultivated, controlled, and used if the demigod so wishes. But regardless of the demigod's wishes…"

Chiron's face hardened, "…it is important that each and every demigod realize the enormity of his, or her, birthright. Demigod powers are potent…very potent. Just as there are gods and goddesses, there are monsters uprooted from ancient lore. Monsters that can literally smell a demigod…and hunt him down."**(4)**

"Which is why," Chiron continued, voice brightening, "you were both brought here to Camp Half Blood. Camp Half Blood is a safe haven, a sanctuary for demigod children. It is here where demigods discover and explore their powers. It is here…" Chiron peered at us, almost like he was trying to read invisible script across our foreheads"…where the gods and goddesses reveal themselves; and claim their children as their own."

Sunlight drizzled through a laden apple tree. It speckled over the beautiful girl's cheeks as she lifted her luminous eyes.

"No more lying. No more wondering. Prepare to meet your parents," she said in a strong, musical voice, "your _real_ parents."

Aydyn's grip was like a vice over my shoulder. He was cutting off my circulation but that didn't matter; my heart had stopped beating anyway. _Could it be true? Could it? Was my father…a god?_

My throat was dry. I couldn't think straight. My thoughts kept sticking together; I couldn't separate what was real and what was untrue.

As always, I didn't have to worry. Aydyn took control of the situation.

"So what you're saying is, essentially," Aydyn tapped his chin, "is that…I am a god?"

All four faces lined before us fell.

"Not…quite." Chiron said.

"Of course not!" Annabeth shoved both hands over her sword belt. The sword clicked against the porch rails behind her. "What, are you an idiot? Haven't you been listening?"

"For someone that keeps pushing the Greek god thing," Aydyn said, "I'm getting mixed signals here, Annabelle!"**(5)**

"My name is Anna- beth."

"_Aside_." Aydyn waved a hand, turning to Chiron. "So you think I'm the spawn of a Greek god?"

"A goddess," Chiron nodded, heartecfsned to see some acceptance, "And yes I do believe your mother is a goddess. Not a god."

"Ok…same thing, but female?"

"Yes."

"So I'm a god."

"No."

"You said – "

"Half god!" Annabeth growled, grinding her blade in its hilt, "shut up already, you're a half god."

"Ah ha!" Aydyn's finger jumped forward. "So I _am_ a god!"

"No." Acid burned behind Annabeth's grey eyes, "_half_ god."

Aydyn gave Annabeth a look of pity. "Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, how angry we are. Hmmm…ok Miss-Know-It-all…Did you know that my dad was Irish. County Cork. Right off the boat."

"So?"

"So Antoinette –"

"—Annabeth—"

"—_aside_. So, that means I'm Irish. Right?"

Annabeth ground her teeth. "Half, Irish."

"But still Irish," said Aydyn definitively. "So, half, whole, or one-sixteenth, I am still a god."

The satyr cocked his head. "Think he out thunk you Annabeth."

"Shut up, Grover."

Chiron shook his head like a tired grandfather. His eyes rested on me. I purposely looked past him. Camp Half Blood was wide awake now. Kids older and younger than me were skipping around and swinging lethal weapons as if the world was just spinning in a bowl of cherries.**(6)**

"Kiera?"

I ignored the centaur, but my face darkened.

"Kiera…" Chiron knelt, one hand on the rocker. His soft gaze was unnervingly penetrating. "Kiera. Do you have any questions? Any at all?"

I glared accusingly at his hand. "Off course I have questions," I said. Memories were peeling away in my mind, opening like festering scabs. "But I don't care who my father is. And I don't care if he rots before I find out."

Apprehension rippled over Chiron's face. Had I not been so angry, I might have noticed a sudden coolness sweep across the porch.

"That might be difficult," Chiron said quietly as Grover and Annabeth looked over their shoulders, "because your father is immortal."

I leaned forward. "Fine. Then I'll rot first."

"Chiron." Annabeth's voice was sharp and urgent. I could tell she was trying to end the conversation.

"It's all right Annabeth," Chiron said more confidently than his mannerisms implied. He lifted onto his four feet. "If Mr. D's assumptions are correct, Hermes won't be upset with a resentful child. It happens all the time. We'll decide to worry once she is claimed."

"Hermes?" Aydyn raised an eyebrow, "claimed?"

Grover nodded enthusiastically. "Nearly all demigod children are brought here without previous contact with their god parent. Or knowledge, for that matter."

"Shocker." Aydyn said wryly.

"But—" Grover continued, dismissing Aydyn's tone, "—once demigod kids come here, their god parent is obligated to claim them by the age of thirteen. That's a new thing. Until recently, some kids grew up without ever being claimed."

Aydyn's eyes narrowed. "What's this claiming business? It sounds painful."

The pretty blonde girl smiled again. Despite my cold mood, I instantly felt like the front porch had turned into a tanning bed.

"Claiming is not painful," she said. I blinked, trying to listen to her amazing voice without being mesmerized, "It's more of an event. An honorable event wherein the god parent officially acknowledges his or her child."

"And you think Kiera's…_dad_ for want of a better word…is…Hermes?"

Everyone looked at Chiron.

Chiron answered vacillatingly. "Potentially."

Aydyn and I were not convinced. Chiron must have sensed this, because he quickly furthered the response.

"Mr. D, our camp director, er…_mentioned_ that Kiera's abilities are highly characteristic of Hermes' family traits. Hermes, as you may recall, is the god of roads and travel, merchants and messengers, commerce and mail deliverers, thieves and tricksters, athletics and…"

Chiron's eyes flickered to my feet. "…speed."

I tucked both feet under my chair with a grating look, causing Annabeth to scoff.

"I wouldn't get excited. It's just a theory, nothing is definite." She glared at me as if I _wanted_ this whole daddy situation to be true. **(7)**

"Logically, there are counter arguments. Lot's of counter arguments." Annabeth folded her arms and popped her hip so she could give me the once over comfortably,

"She seems to be pretty athletic – that's a family trait sure – but basically everyone here is physically fit, so her speed is not that extraordinary. There are dozens of additional factors to consider. Hermes kids are card sharks and persuasive as the day is long. They also tend to look alike – upturned eyebrows, weird crooked smiles." Annabeth studied my face, "I haven't seen her smile once."

"Um reality check," Aydyn said, moving closer to my chair, "we were man-handled by the welcoming party. Gonna take a little more hospitality than that to butter us up, Anastasia."

"My name—"

"Well don't sweat it or anything," Grover cut in, hopping in front of what should have been Aydyn's premature death, "It's always a guessing game before a kid is claimed. Gods are pretty busy. It may take a little while."

"So…we wait?" Aydyn said unenthusiastically.

The pretty blonde girl with the amazing voice shook her head. "Hardly. We instigate."

Aydyn's smile was smoother than honey. "Instigate, huh? Sounds very…intimate. What's all this instigating business all about?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. I grinned: it was nice to see someone else disgusted by Aydyn's charm for once.

"In-sti-gate. It means _to bring about, _you moron."

Aydyn's grin only widened. He winked at Annabeth. Annabeth looked like she either wanted to stab her eyes out or barf. **(8)**

Things started to look a little dicey – especially for Aydyn – so I decided to move the conversation forward, even through I thought the whole thing was stupid. "Instigate?" I asked skeptically. It seemed ridiculous that an all powerful being would tolerate a bunch of kids – parent or no parent. "How do you instigate a god? Prayer? Fasting? Slaughtering defenseless baby animals?"

The pretty blonde girl smiled. "No. Capture the flag."

* * *

><p><strong>Kiera's Footnotes <strong>

**(1) Little sick of the whole waking-up-from-unconsciousness routine.**

**(2)Sure glad I warrant no special treatment. **

**(3)Although I've probably eaten enough Chobani in my time to qualify for dual citizenship.**

**(4)So much for deodorant.**

**(5)Name identification was never really Aydyn's thing.**

**(6)Numbskulls.**

**(7)Um yeah I'll pass on THAT fairytale, thanks.**

**(8)…or both.**


	10. Chapter 10 : Pep Talk

**Chapter 10: Pep Talk**

_W. Kiera Crow_

I tried to stay still for Dr. Hickey, but the bleeding eight year old to my right was pretty distracting.

"He'll be fine," said Dr. Hickey as one of the residents rubbed golden liquid over the little boy's knife wound. "Just an accident. Got a little excited to play capture the flag with his siblings. Roughhousing. Over emotional. Typical Ares…" Dr. Hickey muttered tersely, "Crybabies…that scab is nothing compared to the crew we get after the game. Talk about your amputations…"

Swords sliced metal-on-metal outside as Dr. Hickey strapped a blood pressure cuff under my shoulder. The cuff squeezed my arm. Pressure built in my fingertips. I stared ahead. Spears and arrows cut past the tent entrance. War cries bombed the morning air.

The cuff suddenly deflated with a long hiss. "Nervous?" asked Dr. Hickey, removing the stethoscope from his ears.

"No." I said, watching as he recorded the blood pressure reading on my chart. It was high. Higher than my usual low.

I avoided eye contact as Dr. Hickey took my wrist and located my radial pulse. "It's just capture the flag. Just a game. Why should I be nervous?"

Dr. Hickey did not look up from his watch. But we both felt my pulse throbbing under his index finger.

"A slew of reasons," said Dr. Hickey. He lowered my wrist and clicked open his ballpoint pen. "Pain and anguish being the principle ones."

The wounded eight-year-old screamed.

I forced myself not to look back. "No sweat. I can outrun a weapon."

Dr. Hickey's sky blue eyes reflected in his glasses. He looked seriously at me. Then he returned to his clipboard. "That's not what I meant."

Neither of us spoke. Dr. Hickey's pen scratched sloppily over my paperwork. The medical insignia embroidered into his white coat disappeared into the folds of his sleeve. Breathing deep, I rolled my shoulders back. The armored vest cut into my neck.

"Were you nervous?"

Dr. Hickey flicked through my chart. "When I played capture the flag for the first time?"

"No…when you were claimed."

The doctor paused. Slowly he lowered the clipboard.

"Not nervous." Dr. Hickey removed his glasses. He rubbed his temples through watery-blonde hair. His voice was less musical. "But after I was angry. Very angry."

I waited for him to continue. The commotion outside the tent increased as campers aggregated, weapons in hand.

"Asklepiusis my father." Dr. Hickey said. Carefully, he rubbed golden liquid over the scars on my arm. "The god of medicine. Son of Apollo. But as a medical professional, I answer to Apollo. The greater god fathers do not like it when you pray to lesser gods."

Dr. Hickey turned, sifting through his little black bag for Band-Aids as he spoke. \

"I respect Apollo's jurisdiction over healers. I am grateful for the power he has passed upon me through his son. With that power, I was able to understand and heal human body easily as I breathe. Healthcare is a simple, inherent skill. It's almost like I my eyes are radiographic microscopes – like I can see inside the body through skin and ambiguity to the heart of pathology. It's always been that way; I was practicing medicine by the age of seventeen."

Shadows soaked Dr. Hickey's eyes. "But Apollo mocked my mother – a nurse. And he tormented my fiancé: a classmate of mine, studying to be an obstetrician. He laughed at the outstanding effort they devoted to learning the medical profession. He laughed at my mother when she attended continued education courses. He laughed at my fiancé every sleepless night before an exam."

Dr. Hickey clenched his stethoscope. His mouth was thin. His voice was flat. "He laughed when my mother could not save her father from a heart attack. He laughed when my fiancé delivered a baby for the first time, and it died before exiting the womb."

Dr. Hickey closed his eyes. "He laughed because the all powerful Apollo – and his demigod ward – were the true healers. He laughed because only immortals can save life; but mortals…all mortals can do is shrink from death…when they are lucky."

Sighing, Dr. Hickey ducked into his glasses. "And that…apparently is a laughing matter."

I sat still. Dr. Hickey rolled down my sleeve and handed me my vambrace. I set the forearm-armor on my thigh, uninterested in going outside.

I did not want to play capture the flag. I did not want to find my powers or prove myself to the rest of Camp Half Blood. I did not want to be claimed. But most of all…

"I don't want to know my father." My reflection was distorted in the cylindrical vambrace. "I don't want to know my father at all."

Horns screamed outside, wailing like sirens. Campers cried back, hungry for the game to start.

Dr. Hickey looked at me. His gaze was professional, blunt, and unsympathetic.

"It is too late. There is no turning back. Not now. Not ever. You are your genetics. You are who you are."

A roar of cheers erupted outside the tent. A tingle stung across my shoulder blades.

"But as we say in the medical profession…" Dr. Hickey picked up the vambrace and placed it back in my hands, "…A disease must be researched before the cure can be found; and the body can begin to heal."

Metal clanged on metal outside. Chiron's voice charged through the noise, "Captains, present forward for the selection of team members!"

I looked into Dr. Hickey's clear, objective eyes.

"Good luck, Kiera."


	11. Chapter 11: Pick Your Poison

**Chapter 11: Pick Your Poison**

_Aydyn Owl_

You could not have had a more charged atmosphere if you dropped a toaster into a bath tub. All around me campers rubbed metal on metal, leather on leather, sword on sword, death threat on death threat.

It was great.

People jittered with excitement, anticipating the danger. Mob mentality was fresh: I took the opportunity to observe, soaking in discrepancies and strengths that screamed through the raw emotions.

"Smell that?"

Standing to my right and slightly behind was a kid probably three years older than I. He wasn't huge, but very compact, very muscular, and very…savage. Yeah savage: right down to the piercing eyes and six inch scar crossing his cheekbones. He didn't carry a weapon that I could see, but looked like he'd eat you alive. Not someone you'd want to meet in a dark alley away from home, much less an R rated version of capture the flag.

I turned and grinned. "Smell what?" I starred evenly into his eyes, "The fear?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. Sunlight spread over his shaved head like a golden helmet. The stubble on his scruffy chinstrap prickled with light as he smiled.

"Pierson," he said holding out a hand, "Pierson Salt. Son of Deimos. God of terror."

Pierson's fingernails dug into my skin.

"Aydyn." I said, squeezing his hand hander. His nails were like knives. "Aydyn Owl."

I made a mental note never to shake Pierson's hand again – his sharp fingers seemed to poke holes all the way up to my brain and release every terrible thought from my memory. It was like watching the horror film version of my life. Strangely, many of the clips were not of the past – most were scenes of impending doom.

Good thing I'm too cocky to care about my future wellbeing.

"Didn't know there was a god of terror." I said conversationally. Pierson looked mildly impressed, but I bet a thousand bucks that he knew I felt like barfing. I blinked, trying to stare through a vision of myself dying by spear. "Bet that comes in handy in a dark alley on a dark night."

Pierson let go. I waited for my internal organs to unknot themselves before looking him back in the eye.

"Helped get my rat-ass out of Detroit." said Pierson, grinning like a wolf.

"Yeah…alive outta Detroit and straight into Juv Hell."

Coming up behind Pierson was another boy, this time my junior buy a year or two. Like me he was geared up with mismatched armor and leftover weaponry. His eyes burned black as his charcoal skin. His voice was deeper than I would have ever expected, given his age.

It was pretty obvious that Pierson and the newcomer were old friends, judging by the shoulder bump and forearm embrace. It was the manliest hug I ever saw, and they pulled it off with dignity.

The reunion lasted several seconds. When they finally stopped _bro-ing-it-out_, the newcomer looked at me like I was roadkill. Or…going to be roadkill.

"Who's the Shamrock, Pierce?"

I held out a hand, making sure to flex my pecs, since he was so nice to make reference of my triskelion tattoo.

"Aydyn Owl." I said. The kid regarded my hand.

"Oh my bad." Nonchalantly, I removed the spear head strapped to my forearm. Kiera and I had been decked out in leftover armor, so most of my equipment was too big, "My gear is still on back-order from Amazon."

The kid didn't smile. But he did take my hand for a good shake. Like a boss, I shook long and hard. Then, like a potty-trainee I felt like wetting my pants. Panic banged around my gut like a violent ping-pong game. The feeling didn't stop until the kid released my hand.

"Solid grip," the kid said, more to Pierson than to me. "Cocky- ass Shamrock. What you think you're Zeus' spawn, Shamrock?"

My hand was still clenched. "Don't know. Just got here yesterday." I said, uncurling my fingers, "But it's a relief to see that you're here to represent House of Persephone. I'm sure your mommy is very proud."

"Easy D'Marcus." Pierson grinned as the kid – D'Marcus – tensed like a scorpion. "This one's harder to scare off. Stupid." he added with a touch of respect.

D'Marcus recoiled reluctantly. His big fingers kept probing the air like antennae.

"Not know your bitch parent, huh Shamrock? Well, I'm not claimed either. Just broke out of Juvie, yesterday."

D'Marcus jabbed a thumb to his chest proudly. "Me an' that goat busted the joint wide open. But jus' cause I'm not claimed don't mean I don't know my bitch. No sir."

"D'Marcus and I shared a cell in Detroit's detention center." Pierson said as D'Marcus jabbed his chest again, "Tried to kill each other a couple times before we figured out we had the same powers."

I looked between the two. "Terror?" I guessed from what Pierson had disclosed earlier.

"Close, Shamrock. Close." D'Marcus cracked his knuckles against his hip, "Fear."

"Phobos." Pierson added. "God of fear. Son of Ares. Brother to Demios."

It seemed plausible. But I was shocked D'Marcus already knew his Dad's identity. Kiera and I had been here a night or two, during which time she brooded about her god parent. Kiera seriously did not want anything to do with her father. I can't really blame her because my dad – Keegan – was just the best dad that any girl could ask for. So, I didn't bring up the subject.

However, I had spent a fair chunk of time trying to identify my god mother. Apparently it's pretty easy to guess because all god kids share specific characteristics. But I wasn't an easy case. Not that I'm bragging or anything, but I seemed to have a lot of awesome traits from each house: my mechanical intellect was Hephaestus', my bluntness was Ares', my eyes were Athena's, my eyelashes were Aphrodite's…oh the list just kept going, and going, on and on. It's really quite embarrassing how spectacular I am. Sigh.

So, I was understandably impressed that D'Marcus had already indentified his god parent.

"How do you know Phobos is your Dad?" I asked, genuinely interested, "You haven't been claimed."

"Campers!" Chiron towered over the throng. Shards of bronze metal reflected off his bright eyes, "Campers! The start of the game as come! Newcomers, gather up front!"

Pierson nodded a curt salute at D'Marcus as the boy headed for Chiron with the rest of the unclaimed campers. But as he passed, D'Marcus squeezed my arm through the leather straps.

"I know that I am the child of Fear." D'Marcus whispered in my ear. His breath was cold as ice. "Because to know fear, children have to be taught how to be afraid."

D'Marcus eased off my arm and headed for Chiron. "And my dad was a good teacher."

I believed him. For a second I was afraid to move – no reason, I was just afraid. But then, warmth spread through my fingers and up my arm. It almost felt like I was holding a light bulb.

"Hey. Hey."

I blinked.

It was the pretty blonde girl that I had met before. The one with the incredible smile. Currently she wasn't smiling – or at least I couldn't tell due to her bronze helmet. But her eyes shimmered through the metal slits like blue crystals.

She squeezed my hand again. Still a little disoriented, I looked down and noticed that even the armor couldn't hide this girl's incredible body. I must have overstayed my admiration, because she abruptly dropped my hand.

"Better…stay focused." She said, rubbing the back of her hand against her thigh. "Keep away from danger if you want to survive the game."

I glanced sideways. D'Marcus stood separate from the congregation of new kids. Even Chiron seemed repulsed by his invisible aura.

"I'm not afraid to not back down." I told her, taking a step closer.

Lifting an arrow, she placed the tip against my chest. Carefully I looked down. The arrow head was jagged, curved like a hook.

"I wasn't talking about him." she said, prodding me back. I stood still. The arrow scraped across my shoulder plate, but I kept my eyes on the blue behind her helmet.

"Try to say alive." She said pushing away.

I grinned at the daggers fastened diagonally across her back. "Any particular reason why, Helen?"

She turned. "What did you call me?"

"Well, you didn't tell me your name before."

I could tell she was smiling through the helmet. "That's right."

"Ok then." I re-strapped the spear head to my forearm. "Play coy. I can work with Helen if you can."

"Helen?"

I pretended not to notice the gentle dip in her voice followed by a pause, as if she was hopeful but shy of receiving the compliment. Of course she butched up immediately on the defensive, but I had a winning offense: I was sincere.

"Yeah. Helen of Troy? Ever heard of her? Come on…_Helen of Troy launched a thousand ships…_"

Carefully, I tipped back her helmet, smoothing aside layers of hair that spilled over her shoulders like sun shine. A mesmerizing sparkle flushed her sky blue eyes.

"…with a single smile."

I swear our heartbeats melted into one long throb.

Heaviness filled my chest. Like a hunter, I zeroed in. I probably would have never noticed the nagging voice calling my name had her gaze not slide from mine.

Blinking once, she took the helmet silently from my hand.

"Catch me first." she said, disappearing behind the helmet. "Then I'll tell you my name."

I watched her go. Behind me Mr. D – the fat camp director – was belching something furious.

"Fair enough." I grinned, flexing my fingers and rolling my shoulders. "Game on."

"ATTENTION CAMPERS!" Chiron called as I joined the throng of unclaimed demigods. The crowd hushed as Chiron waved his arm.

"Before starting Capture the Flag, I would like to reiterate changes to game policy: due to recent increases in claimings the number of campers has increased. Therefore, we have modified the game from scouting to battle combat."

"Mr. D and I are in concert in our assumption that increased populace decreases the value of the individual camper. Subsequently, the necessity for strategy and solidarity has also increased."

To my right, the Athena campers all started smiling and nudging each other as if they had won the lottery. I snorted wryly: well they weren't the only ones that knew how to design a plan of attack. I'd get em all.

I looked for Kiera, knowing how much she love-hatedmy scheming and strategizing. She was two campers down, standing between D'Marcus and a buff ginger. I tried to signal, but her eyes were glued ahead, fixed on someone in the crowd. She looked like she had seen a ghost. However, I wasn't in the mood to play _Where's Waldo_, so I turned back to the centaur.

"Therefore," Chiron continued, "Team captains will have an hour to strategize and organize ranks. On the hour, the game begins. Judges will include myself, Mr. D, and any reports we receive from the nymphs, and special visitors, the Hunters of Artemis!"

Chiron started to applaud, with scattered participation from the campers. Leaning forward, I strained for a glace at the hunters of Artemis. I was surprised to see the punk rocker that had electrocuted Kiera at the track meet. Decked in silver and sporting an enormous silver bow, she stood ahead of a pack of girls. All the girls were dressed similarly, but ranged in all ages.

None of the hunters seemed perturbed at the lack of enthusiasm offered by the campers. In fact, they looked bored. Judging by the lowered eyebrows and glazed faces, these girls probably would have been happier at a bull fight.

Only the punk rocker maintained interest as Chiron addressed the campers. Her eyes flicked back and forth, as if she were taking inventory of the crowd. Her gaze paused twice, once on that annoying chic Anna-something and once on Kiera. Deciding this was not in my sister's best interest, I maneuvered my way to Kiera, blocking her from the punk rocker's view.

"That's him." Kiera breathed, still looking straight ahead.

I scanned the crowd. "Who?" I asked.

D'Marcus glanced sideways at us. Chiron was still talking – something about emergency first aid.

Kiera spoke impatiently. "That boy. From the forest. When I tried to run for help."

I frowned. _What was she talking about?_ _Boy from the forest?_ Well this was new information.

"Kiera." I leaned against her shoulder, "What the bloody are you talking about?"

She nudged me, frustrated. "The boy wearing the black aviator jacket! In the back row. By the – "

"So!" Chiron's voice boomed, breaking our conversation. I caught a disapproving glance before he turned to Mr. D, who looked a lot less interested in the centaur's speech than Kiera or I. "Mr. D…would you do the honors?"

"Hmm?" Mr. D said, shaking his Diet Pepsi absent mindedly.

Chiron eyed the can warily. "Time to choose sides…" he prompted, edging away as the camp director shook the soda like a maraca, "…would you do the honors of team selection?"

"Blissfully," Mr. D grumbled. Handing Chiron the soda, Mr. D lumbered forward. Vines quivered behind his curly bangs as he addressed the crowd with a liquidy belch.

"Ok suckers." Tucking both thumbs into a leopard print belt, Mr. D. scanned the crowd. "Who wants to be captain of the loosing team?"

There was a pause.

Then I stepped forward. "I will."

Mr. D. blinked. The campers tried to overthrow me with a collective uproar.

"Dude are you _insane_?"

"Mr. D's a god, Stupid! You basically just cursed your team."

"Nose goes on the stupid kid's team."

"He's not even claimed!"

"That's bowl shit! Right?"

"I dunno. Can he do that?"

"_Can_ he do that?" Chiron asked, leaning over Mr. D.

I turned, waiting for Mr. D.'s verdict. I couldn't read the decision on his face either way, but after a moment he smiled ever so slightly at me.

"Yes." Mr. D pushed Chiron away, "It'll be a good lesson in humility. And entertaining to say the least."

Satisfied with the way events were panning out, Mr. D. returned to the disgruntled crowd. "Ok my little pansies, the unclaimed newbie wants to be gutsy. So who wants to be the captain of the other loosing team?"

Squaring my shoulders, I turned challengingly to the crowd. It was my intent to be intimidating, but the response was almost immediate.

"I'm in."

The crowd turned, curling in on itself as the volunteer stepped forward. I couldn't see without making a visible effort, but Kiera sucked in her breath.

"What?" I whispered from the corner of my mouth. Both the punk rocker and Ana-something were smirking. Chiron was doing a really bad job acting impartial. "Kiera who is it?"

"Well, well, well what a shocker." Mr. D. cracked open his soda as the crowd parted. "Peter Johnson."

The volunteer stood before us, grinning from ear to ear. "That's Percy." he said looking straight at me. "Percy Jackson."

"CHB coach?" Kiera asked quietly as Percy Jackson parked his sorry butt beside me. "CHB…Camp Half Blood."

"Clever, huh?" Percy said, leaning forward to wave at Kiera. "Nice run by the way, Wen – er – Kiera. Sorry. Forgot. But still nice race."

"Yeah." Kiera snapped. "Thanks asshole it was _electrifying_."

I could have kissed her. Deciding not to interject just yet, I waited for Percy's counterargument.

"Hey," Percy switched his sword to the opposite hand, "That wasn't my fault. Blame Thalia for that."

"Thalia?" Kiera glared following Percy's finger as he pointed to the Hunters of Artemis. "Oh seriously? The punk rocker is here?"

"She's the child of Zeus." explained Percy, "You know, lighting bolts, electricity, and everything? To be fair K,iera, you really screwed up her powers."

K,iera and I both found that incredulous.

"She tried to burn my skin off!" Kiera hissed.

Percy held up his hands. "Whoa, calm down. It was an accident. Thalia was pretty beat up too."

"Good."

"Careful." Percy cautioned, glancing up at the sky. "Thalia is Zeus' only kid and you really took her for a ride. Thalia told me that you pulled the microburst out from under her. She said the electricity was itching to get to you, and she lost control. And when you two actually made contact…" Percy extended his fingers, "Bam."

I wasn't buying it.

"You're full of it." I growled, "You and the dream team almost killed us both. I should have pummeled you at the coach's meeting."

Percy straightened. "Snooze you loose."

"Looks like I'm getting a second chan –"

"Captains!"

Chiron approached, Mr. D. unenthusiastically in his wake. The centaur addressed me first.

"Aydyn Owl: since you have not been yet claimed, your flag standard will be that of Mr. D's – Dionysus. Unless," Chiron added as Mr. D. leered. "You are claimed within the progress of the game. And Percy…"

Chiron practically dripped with favoritism. "Percy, your standard will obviously be that of Poseidon."

I was mildly impressed, but managed to hide it as Chiron returned to me. "Aydyn: You have the first pick. Your selection must be either a family house or individual, unclaimed camper."

"Solid." I said without pausing. "Kiera. Unclaimed."

"Two unclaimed campers." Mr. D. slurped his soda, "Smaaaaaart."

Percy Jackson seemed to be in agreement with Mr. D's sarcasm. Without even trying to hide his smirk, he pointed into the crowd.

"House of Athena."

We had to wait several minutes for the cheering to subside. My head was ticking furiously: both Percy and the Athena campers looked like they came straight from the GI-Joe franchise, with cockiness to spare. It wasn't that I was intimidated by their obvious agility with weaponry or anything. It was the cockiness. Cockiness could be dangerous: makes one pretty much invisible. I should know.

I had to plan. I had to foil them…and their cockiness.

_ That was it._

"I'm ready for the next pick." Chiron nodded and I turned to my left.

"D'Marcus. Unclaimed."

At that point Percy and Chiron started looking a bit concerned. I mean so far Team Aydyn was both outnumbered and inexperienced. Mr. D. on the other hand, clapped his hands like Christmas had come early.

"Three? Three unclaimed campers? Goodness you are dummer than you – "

Mr. D. stopped. Hands suspended, he stared with the rest of Camp Half Blood as light erupted over D'Marcus' head.

The light fizzled and sputtered with yellow, white, and black sparks. The sparks sprawled over each other like maggots, interweaving into a symbol: a skull flanked by a lions mane. D'Marcus had been claimed.

"That's happened to me…" Kiera breathed.

Waiting for her to say more, I squinted against the sickening, yellow light hovering over the boy's head like a halo. When she did not further explain, I squeezed Kiera's arm, promising we'd talk about it later. Right now, I had people to intimidate.

"D'Marcus." I spoke clearly over the silence. "Son of Phobos. God of fear."

I chose Pierson next, followed by Houses of Persephone, Aphrodite, Dionysus, Ares, and Hephastus. Percy matched my picks with the Houses of Hermes, Hypnosis, Demeter, a bunch of other god names too complicated to remember, and Apollo.

"Got guts Shamrock." D'Marcus said as I watched my imaginary Helen join Percy with the rest of the Apollo campers. D'Marcus noticed and blocked my line of sight. "Now let's see if you can keep them. Got a plan?"

I made eye contact with Helen before returning to my team…my army. Unstrapping the spear head from my forearm, I exchanged glances with Kiera.

Kiera actually smiled as she stood beside D'Marcus, awaiting my instruction.

"Dumb question."


End file.
